“Katie FitzGerald!” he cried again, his arms tight around her. Smiling widely, he lightly kissed her mouth. Their gazes met and held. It was then that his smile died, that he stared at her, his brow creasing.
Katherine smiled up at him uncertainly, but her heart was pounding in relief because she had thought, God, she had thought, that he would be dismayed to see her—that he would send her away.
Still staring, no longer smiling, Hugh slid to the ground, Katherine still in his arms, and he slowly slipped her to her feet. His hands held her waist lightly and he frowned, his gaze moving over her features one by one. “God, Katie, I cannot recognize you. ’Tis a beauteous woman you’ve become.”
Katherine managed a choked sound, that was only partly a laugh.
“Aye, beauteous,” he said, his tone lower now and husky.
Katherine wet her lips. She was so nervous, and somewhat confused. This was Hugh, not a strange man, who held her so intimately, who would soon be her husband. Hugh. Not a stranger. But she had not seen him in six years. “And you,” she managed. “’Tis a fine man you’ve become—no scrawny boy.”
“Yes,” he murmured, his hands pulling her closer until her hips bumped his. “I am no boy now, Katherine, begging for a kiss and not knowing how to go about it properly.”
Katherine sensed his intentions and she stiffened. “’Twas very sweet,” she began.
“But not sweet enough,” he said, dipping his head.
Katherine’s body stiffened as his mouth covered hers. Her instinct was to push him away.
Yet he was her betrothed and her frantic mind commanded her to be still, to accept his kiss, to bond with him now as she must do. His lips were insistent and firm. He wanted her to open her mouth—Liam had taught her about that. Liam. Oh, God. Liam who was watching even now.
Katherine did not want to resist Hugh, yet she could not relax. Especially not with Liam watching them. But Hugh would soon be her husband—she must kiss him back.
Gripping his shoulders, Katherine began to kiss Hugh with determination and passion—for this was Hugh, the man she loved.
Finally the kiss was over. Hugh stared at her, eyes wide and dazed. Katherine backed a step away from him, her heart hammering, telling herself that Hugh’s kiss had been a wondrous thing. And she wouldnotcompare his kiss to Liam’s.
“Sweet Mary,” Hugh said, a gasp. “What a fine woman you’ve become.”
Katherine colored, aware of his men chortling behind him, aware of Liam, who did not move and did not make a sound. She dared to look over her shoulder, and glimpsed raw fury in his eyes. Katherine started. Had he been telling the truth when he’d told her that he was jealous of the mere idea of her with Hugh?
But when he sauntered forward, abreast of Katherine, his gaze was shuttered. “I am Katherine’s escort, Lord Barry. Might we adjourn inside? We have only arrived at Cork this day, and have ridden long and hard to arrive here before dusk. Lady FitzGerald is much fatigued, andnigh ill with hunger, as well.” His smile flashed, cold and brittle.
Katherine was neither tired nor hungry, but she was relieved by Liam’s request. But why had he referred to her by a title that no longer belonged to her? It was as if he were reminding Hugh of the demands of propriety.
Hugh came to life. “How remiss of me. I was so stunned to find Katie here—and such a woman, at that.” His glance slid over her far too boldly. “Come, we shall take supper in the hall.”
As an old man and a young boy had appeared and now winched up the portcullis, Katherine tried not to look at Liam, watching Hugh. She told herself that she was very lucky that he was pleased to see her, that he desired her, that he wished to bed her. Her fears that he had forgotten all about her in the past six years as her own family had were clearly untrue.
Hugh moved to her and took her hand, tucking it into his arm. “You must stay beside me, Katie,” he said, his tone intimate, his grin crooked. He patted her hand and they entered Castle Barry, Hugh’s home, which would soon be her home too.
At Barrymore the great hall in the original keep was still used as a dining hall, and they entered it directly. It was hardly furnished. Old rushes were upon the floors. The walls were bare. A few old servants had appeared to light tapers. Soon wood trenchers of breads and cheeses and cold meats were brought forth with beer and ale and set upon the long trestle table. Hugh’s dozen retainers quickly took their places.
Katherine wondered if her memory served her correctly. For she recalled visiting this hall as a child, when the walls had been hung with bright tapestries, when graceful oak sideboards had stood against the walls, when the trenchers had been silver, and fine glass goblets from London had been used and the tables had been laid with silver knives and spoons. She recalled the room as being sweet-smelling, not foul. She recalled many well-dressed servants, and a banquet fit for a wealthy lord, if not a king.
Hugh saw her wandering gaze. He looked grim as he seated her at the head of the table beside him. “We have lost everything in the past few years, Katie,” he said. “I have had to sell off all the furnishings, and most of the great Barry horses. My men have all joined FitzMaurice, except for the few you see seated below you. I cannot keep many servants, for I can not feed them. But ’tis not just the clan Barry who have suffered. All the great clans have suffered here in the south, as well. I try to tell myself that I am pleased that Castle Barry remains standing, and in my own hands, but ’tis not enough.”
“I am sorry, Hugh,” Katherine whispered. “We saw signs of war everywhere. ’Tis ghastly.”
He nodded, pulling a trencher forward and spearing meat, which he placed upon her plate. Katherine was aware of Liam taking a seat on the bench just below her on her left, and she stiffened. His knee, beneath the table, touched her.
Quickly she faced Hugh. “Your vassals have joined my cousin FitzMaurice?”
Hugh nodded soberly.
Katherine gripped her eating dagger. “My stepmother says he styles himself the earl of Desmond.”
Hugh eyed her. “I have heard that said, as well. But when I met the man, he called himself the captain of Desmond, nothing else. And surely you know that your own father appointed him as such after being imprisoned by the queen? Someone had to manage the Desmond lands.”
