Katherine opened her eyes abruptly. Sunlight poured into the chamber, telling her that it was midday, and a fine afternoon, too. Dismay filled her, dismay and an aching sadness.
Was he so set against children that she would never have any? What caused him to have such a strange, dark determination?
Katherine had no answer, not yet. She turned and watched a servant adding sweet herbs to a tub of steaming bathwater, and the scent of rosemary wafted over her. Katherine tried to summon up some interest, but failed. She was fully awake, though, and she sat up, holding the sheets up over her chest. Then she gasped.
Liam stood by the doorway, regarding her intently. He was not smiling, but when their gazes collided, the slightest, most tentative smile formed on his face.
Katherine summoned up a smile that felt utterly shy and every bit as uncertain as his.
“Good morning, Kate.” He moved to her, took her hand, and raised it to his lips. He kissed her palm, holding her eyes. The servant pretended not to see, quickly leaving. Katherine’s senses rioted, her cheeks flamed. His eyes were so warm as they looked at her that Katherine could not help but believe that he cared for her far more than he had ever let on.
And she was jolted by the notion. Jolted and undone.
He sat down beside her on the bed. “What darkthoughts do you entertain, that you wake up so serious and so gloomy?”
She studied him, but he seemed to want to know, so she blurted out the truth. “Liam, surely, now that we are wed, you want children?”
His smiled disappeared. Liam rose to his full height, staring down at her, his eyes stormy with emotion. “No, Katherine. I thought you understood. I will not bringmychildren into this world.”
Katherine gripped the bedcovers to her neck. “I do not understand.”
His jaw flexed. “I am sure that you do not.”
Dismay, and anger, filled her. “I am your wife. God knows, I did not ask to be such, but it is done now, and surely I have some rights.”
His gaze traveled over her features, returned to her eyes. “I do not want my sons to sail the seas, with no other world open to them. And God forbid we should have a daughter, for she would have even less choice than that. No. I will not have children.”
Katherine shook her head. “Please, Liam, this is very important to me. We must discuss this. We must—”
“No!”
Katherine flinched at the note of raw fury in his voice.
His eyes blazed. “No.No. I will not breed whores and pirates on you.”
Katherine cried out—as he slammed from the room.
25
The letter came a month later, in August. Liam brought it with him when he returned from his second voyage, one that had lasted a mere week. Katherine recognized the seal instantly; it belonged to the earl of Desmond. Her heart seemed to still. Clearly the sealed missive was from her father, who still recklessly used the insignia to which he no longer had any right.
Liam regarded her searchingly as she stared transfixed at the letter. “I will rid myself of salt and grime in a bath upstairs,” he told her. His smile appeared, soft and seductive. “Perhaps you will come up and help me in my bath after you have read the letter.”
“Thank you, Liam,” Katherine said softly. She watched him climb the stone stairs. She had missed him, but their reunion would have to wait. She understood that he was deliberately leaving in order to give her a moment of privacy in which to read the missive from her father. Katherine was grateful. In the several months since her abduction, in the few weeks since their marriage, she had become more adept at avoiding all thoughts pertaining to the world outside their island. Her father was a part of that world—and she was not sure she wanted to hear the tidings he now brought her.
Katherine moved to stand in front of the fire and she tore open the seal reluctantly, fearfully.
The first of July, in the year fifteen hundred and seventy-one. Dearest Katie, why have you not sent me word? Whatpasses? The court was in an uproar over your abduction, the queen enraged, as was John Hawke. But she denied him his request to set chase after both you and O’Neill.
Have you heeded my wishes as I last made them clear? Is O’Neill an eager suitor? Will he support my cause? My situation has not changed. My worries have never been greater. I die slowly in this exile. In Desmond, FitzMaurice is as strong as ever. At court the queen pulls out her hair, despairing of ever catching the blackguard fanatic. Philip supports him more actively than ever, and from time to time, so does Catherine de Medici. The situation cannot continue, dearest Katie. Soon FitzMaurice will be so ensconced in Desmond, that only an act of God will remove him from Desmond lands. Katie, although you are wed now to Hawke, you must entice O’Neill to our cause if you have not already done so. We need O’Neill as our greatest ally. Send him to me.
Your loving father,
Gerald FitzGerald.
Katherine’s hands shook as she quickly folded the letter and tossed the parchment into the fire.She was still married to John Hawke.
She was panting, her temples pounding. The letter had been dated July 1—perhaps by now Hawke had divorced her.Oh, God. Something was amiss. Liam had abducted her on the fifteenth of April—would Hawke not have divorced her immediately?
