“So, you advise complete capitulation in dealing with women?”
“ ’Tis what Mother taught me,” Stephen replied with a grin. “But Lady Catherine is so much nicer, I would think you would want to make her happy.”
“It is all I want,” William said, his eyes on Catherine, who was entering the hall. “All I want in this world.”
After supper, Catherine turned to him and said in a low voice, “I cannot bear having the servants smother me again tonight. I am taking Jamie up to the solar.”
She did not invite him, but neither did she ask him not to come. He followed her up, with Stephen on his heels. No doubt Stephen was coming along to whisper more helpful guidance in his ear, should he need it.
The four of them spent a pleasant hour together, and William began to relax. Then Catherine announced she was going upstairs with the boys to put Jamie to bed.
Would she return, or would she sleep in Jamie’s bed again?
His shoulders sagged with relief when he heard her light steps coming down the stairs. Watching her hesitate at the doorway, he knew the decision to return had not been easy for her.
He hurried across the room to her, intent on making sure she did not regret her decision, and took her hand.
“Thank you,” he said as he raised it to his lips.
Keeping his eyes on hers, he turned her hand and kissed her palm. When she did not pull back, he told himself it was going to be all right.
With his tongue, he lightly circled her palm. He felt the pulse at her wrist quicken. In bed, at least, he could make her happy. From the way she was looking at him, he suspected she was going to let him take her there.
She did. He was so intoxicated by the feel of her skin against his, the way her body responded to his every touch, the sound of her crying his name as he moved inside her, that he did not notice. Or did not let himself notice.
But after it was over, he knew. He felt so suffused with love for her that he fought against the dawning recognition. But as he clasped her to him, both of them still breathing hard, he knew. Something had changed since the last time they made love. Something was different.
Missing.
For those two days at Beaumaris, she gave herself to him wholly, holding nothing back. He felt as if he held her heart in his hands. As she held his. If not for Beaumaris, he might not know she withheld a part of herself from him now.
In the nights that followed, he made love to her again and again, trying to break down her barriers. Unable to find words that might bring her back to him, he used the strength of his love and desire to draw her. But no matter how deep their passion, there was a part of her he could not reach. A wall he could not climb. A place she guarded from him.
He satisfied her body, even pleased her. He knew he did. But when he told her he loved her, she became upset. So upset, he stopped saying it.
Except sometimes, when he was deep inside her, he could not hold back the words.I love you, I love you, I love you.
She did not say them back.
Chapter Twenty-nine
Catherine, you must help me understand the rebel leaders so that I can end this rebellion more quickly,?? Prince Harry said. “This conflict with our Welsh brothers only weakens us for the war we must inevitably wage with France.”
At William’s request, the prince had given Catherine a week to recover before coming to Ross Castle to question her.
“Glyndwr is a good man,” Catherine told him. “He wants what is best for his people.”
“What he has brought them is razed villages and ruined crops!” the prince said with irritation. “That is all this rebellion will ever bring them. They cannot prevail, so their suffering is for naught.”
“Glyndwr believes God supports him, just as you do,” she said in a reasonable voice. “He will not give up easily.”
William listened as Prince Harry pressed Catherine for every bit of information she had gleaned during her capture. He asked her everything from the character of the rebel leaders to Glyndwr’s intentions regarding the French pope to the number of armed men defending Aberystwyth and Harlech. The two discussed the Tudors at length.
Observing their interaction, William was struck by the prince’s obvious faith in the accuracy of her reports. It was easy to believe he had drawn up battle plans based on information she provided.
“What can you tell me about Rhys Gethin?” Prince Harry asked.
William sat forward and watched his wife closely. He’d been afraid to ask about this rebel—or any of her experiences with the rebels—since their disastrous conversation on the way home from Beaumaris.
