Katherine glanced at him and found him watching her intently as they strolled through the hall. “You are truly in a fine humor, sir. It does me good to see a soul so gladdened—but by what?”
“You are an impatient wench,” he said, lowering his tone intimately. “Are you impatient in all things, dear Katherine?”
Katherine’s smile faded. Something was afoot. John Hawke was far more amorous than usual, and she guessed his words to bear a sexual meaning. That last she did not like. Until now, John had been nothing but proper and gallant, unlike Leicester—unlike Liam. She did not wish to see him turn into a cocky rogue. She pulled her hand from his arm as they entered the long gallery, which was empty, for most of the court still dined in the Banquet Hall.
“Have I upset you?” he asked, instantly concerned.
She paused and faced him. “I am not sure.”
He touched the side of her face very briefly. “Katherine, I did not intend to distress you.” He paused. “I have great news.”
“Which is?”
He no longer smiled. His gaze bored into hers. “The queen wishes us to marry, and I have agreed—if you will but have me.”
Katherine gasped. She was stunned. An image of Liam flashed through her mind. Liam, golden-haired and gray-eyed, his beautiful face strained with passion, as he rose up over her, his hard, powerful body throbbing against hers. She forced the image aside. It was no easy task. She blinked, and saw the dark-haired man standing before her, his face so grave, his blue eyes sober.
“You have turned white. I thought you held me in some esteem.”
Katherine fought to clear her head. “I do! ’Tis that I am surprised!”
“Will you marry me, Katherine?” Hawke asked.
Katherine stared at him. At Sir John Hawke, the captain of the Guard, a fine and noble man. Her dreams could come true. Her dreams of having a handsome, noble husband, a home of her own, and many sweet children. If she would but say yes.
Again she thought of Liam. Anger filled her; she forced his image aside. She thought of her father, imprisoned and in disgrace, stripped of all that he had once had, who was depending upon her to lead the pirate to their cause. But she did not wish to marry Liam, she did not!
“You do not wish to wed?” John asked tightly.
Ignoring any and all consequences, Katherine seized his arm. “No! I do wish to wed!” She wet her lips. “I will marry you, Sir John.”
His eyes brightened and he grinned. Then he gripped her shoulders. Katherine tensed, knowing full well that he intended to kiss her. His long-lashed eyes had turned a stormy shade of blue. His strong jaw flexed. Katherine did not move.
“You are a beautiful woman, Katherine, and I am verypleased that you shall be my wife,” he said huskily. He hesitated. “Surely you have been kissed before?”
Katherine flushed. “Yes,” she whispered unsteadily. It was suddenly dawning upon her. All that she had done. She had been kissed last night, and held and caressed, and far, far more. Oh God. By another man. But today, today she was affianced. And she felt sullied and unworthy of Sir John because of what she had done.
Thank God Sir John did not know—would never know.
“I do not mind,” John Hawke said harshly. “I am hardly a fool. I am sure you have had many ardent admirers.” Still he did not kiss her.
Katherine wet her lips again. She would not make a confession, she must not—yet neither would she lie. Dear God, she would have this man as her husband soon, and she must not begin their marriage with lies—or with whorish infidelities. “I have had a few admirers,” she whispered, managing a small smile. “But now I shall know to chase them away if they dare to pursue me another time.”
He did not smile, but his eyes gleamed. “No one will dare to pursue you now, Katherine. Do you not know my reputation? There are few finer swordsmen in all of England. We are trothed. We are to be wed in four weeks. No one—not even that pirate, O’Neill, will dare to touch what is mine.”
Katherine tried to imagine John Hawke and Liam O’Neill clashing—fighting. It was a horrifying thought. One man would surely die from the encounter—if they did not kill each other. Then her thoughts were diverted, for Hawke was pulling her to him, lowering his mouth to hers.
She held his broad shoulders uncertainly as his mouth moved softly on hers. His kiss was gentle, without demand. Without the fervor she had expected. Katherine was relieved. She was in no mood for kissing now. But her relief vanished in the next instant. His mouth swiftly firmed. His lips became insistent, urging hers to part. Like the other men who had pursued her, this man was an expert at seduction. Yet Katherine could not obey his summons. She whimpered a little, not in desire, but in dismay.He mistook her and pressed her against the wall. Katherine allowed him to suck on her lips, and then on her throat, telling herself that she must not push him away, acutely aware of his large, heated loins pressing hers. She reminded herself that he was handsome, noble, and kind. Yet her body remained indifferent.
Oh why could she not feel the passion for him that she had felt just last night for Liam O’Neill?
He finally tore his mouth from her throat. Katherine forced herself to meet his gaze, reassuring herself that, in time, she would adjust to him, that she would seek his embrace as she had sought Liam’s the night before. But guilt consumed her. She thought she saw confusion in his eyes, confusion and disappointment.
But then he smiled and put his arm around her, and she knew she had misread him.
They would be married in London at St. Paul’s Cathedral. The queen and her entire court would attend the nupitals, but afterward the bride and groom would ride to Barby Hall, the estate dowered Katherine by Elizabeth, where they would spend their wedding night. Preparations for the wedding began immediately. In the interim, Katherine was given leave to adjourn to Sir John’s ancestral home in Cornwall, so that she might meet his father and acquaint herself with her future duties as mistress of his estate.
Katherine was happy. Soon she would be a married woman, and not just any married woman, but the wife of a knight who would undoubtedly rise through the ranks in Elizabeth’s administration as he grew older. One day he might become a knight of the Garter, or even a privy councilor. Elizabeth often rewarded those loyal to her by ennobling them and enriching them as she had done with Leicester. Why, just last month Sir William Cecil had been made a peer, and as Lord Burghley was now lord treasurer of the realm—one of England’s most powerful men.
