She stared at him. She was very, very tired, but it occurred to her that she was not dreaming, that she was nothallucinating, that Liam was there in her bedchamber, sitting beside her upon her bed. “Liam?”
A moment later they were in one another’s arms. He crushed her to his chest. Katherine clung to him. He was her haven, her refuge, her rock against all things insane, unjust, and evil. She was safe now, and loved.
His shaking hands roamed over her back. “I wasn’t there for you,” he choked. And he gripped her face, tilting it up toward him. “Darling, forgive me.”
“Liam,” she whispered, still dazed.
His jaw flexed. Their gazes locked. His eyes were suspiciously moist.
Suddenly his mouth claimed hers. His kiss was restrained, yet the hunger in it was unmistakable. Katherine gave him her tongue. Liam entwined with her, then thrust deep. A moment later he tore his lips from hers, gasping.
“Liam,” she protested, reaching for his face.
But he pushed her hands aside. “Kate.” He was hoarse. “You have just had a babe.” He managed a smile, but it was rueful.
She blinked at him. She had just had a babe? Comprehension began to dawn, but she did not want to remember, so she buried her face against his chest. She rained kisses there, on the broad slabs of his flexed muscles, on his hardening nipples. Her breathing had become shallow.
“Don’t,” he whispered, moving onto his side and taking her with him. He tucked her head beneath his chin, her cheek to his chest, and began to stroke her back lightly. “Katherine,” he murmured. “How I have missed you.”
Katherine slowly relaxed, soothed by his body’s warmth and strength and by his soft, gentle caresses. Her lids became heavy, and it was almost impossible to open them. But she did, glancing at his handsome, flushed countenance. “Liam. I love you.” Her fingernails slid across his ribs, underneath his shirt. Her lids seemed to close of their own volition.
“Katherine, do not sleep. I must talk to you.”
She could not seem to force her eyes to open. “Later,” she murmured, sighing.
“Katherine.” He cupped her chin.
Somehow she opened her eyes. Almost immediately the lids sagged.
“I want to take you with me, but I cannot,” he said quickly. “I have much work to do. I must entrap and capture FitzMaurice. Do you understand me?”
FitzMaurice. Katherine did not want to discuss politics now. She closed her eyes.
“When I have captured him, when your father is restored, I will come for you. And then we will be together, always. Do you understand me?”
She blinked at him. It was hard to focus. What, exactly, was he saying? His voice sounded far away.
“And when I do come for you, I will bring you our child,” he said loudly, disturbing her sleep. “Katherine?”
Sighing, on the threshold of a dark void, she murmured, “I trust you, Liam.”
“Katherine, you must listen. In the interim, it is not safe for you here. I am sending you to Stanley House in Essex.”
She tried to nod.
His hand stroked her brow, her hair. Tenderly. “Have you heard a single word I said?” he whispered.
She could not find the strength to respond. But she thought he added, “I love you, Katherine,” just before sleep finally claimed her.
Morning sunlight was streaming harshly into Katherine’s chamber when Eleanor awoke her. A part of Katherine felt as if she could sleep forever, but that was hardly wise. As she obeyed her stepmother, her body protested mightily. Her muscles were stiff and aching, her body felt battered and sore. It took Katherine a full moment before she comprehended exactly why she was in such a wretched condition.
Oh, God. She had birthed a child, but the queen had taken it away from her. And then she had attacked the queen in a maddened fury.
Gingerly, she tested her muscles. She still felt fatigued, but she had some strength now, strength she needed in order to survive. And survive she must. Somehow, someway, she must regain her child, and she also needed to hide from the queen’s troops.
It seemed a monumental task.
Eleanor helped her bathe and dress. Finally gowned, Katherine faced herself in the room’s single, chipped mirror. She was far too pale and far too thin. She no longer looked healthy, strong, and robust. Perhaps, finally, men would cease to regard her as a possible plaything. And Katherine wondered if Liam thought about her at all. Undoubtedly if he saw her now, he would hardly look at her. The notion was too painful to bear.
