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She could feel the heat in her cheeks. Kathryn had spent a sleepless, torturous night thinking not of the violence and terror that had driven her to the inn but of Sir Neill Waryn.

Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him leaning against the inn, arms crossed, lips curled up ever so slightly. What was the matter with her? Plenty of men as handsome as Neill Waryn had wandered into The Wild Boar.

Well, maybe not quite that handsome.

Still, there had been other guests she’d admired. Some she’d even imagined kissing.

The men at court were not shy with their attentions, and Kathryn had in fact been kissed before. Both times, however, she’d felt only mild curiosity and very little in the way of excitement. Neither kiss had been her idea, although she’d been curious enough to play along. The first time, because she’d never been kissed before. The second, to know if the first was typical or not.

But neither time had she lain awake in bed imagining scenario after scenario in which the man swept her into his arms and—

“About time.”

Mary forced her attention back to the present.

“Pardon?”

“Who is he?”

So much for being coy. Although Kathryn had known from the start she was no card player. Magge had told her as much when they’d first attempted to conceal her speech, attempting to turn her into a simple country maiden and disguise the fact that Kathryn was, in fact, the daughter of one of the most favored men in the English court.

Magge had eventually told her to give up the ruse, do her best not to attract attention, and if asked, simply refuse to divulge her background. Sure, plenty had wondered, but few dared to outright ask as Neill Waryn had. Most wanted something more from her, and when they realized they would not get it, they lost interest in the serving maid, highborn lady or not.

But not him.

“Never mind.” Mary stood. “I already know.”

As her friend turned to leave, Kathryn practically shrieked, “Wait!”

“Yes?” the younger woman said, her eyes sparkling.

Oh. She’d been goading her.

Kathryn glared at Mary. “How do you know?”

“You think a man like him don’t attract attention?”

“But you weren’t in the hall last eve . . .”

“He’s breakin’ his fast even now.”

Kathryn’s heart pounded faster in her chest. He hadn’t left yet? She’d told herself he was long gone, that she’d never see him again. She paused, trying to regain control over herself, then said, “He said he was waiting for his brother and that they were leaving immediately.”

Mary shrugged. “I must be wrong then.”

Clearly, she didn’t believe so.

“Is he an Englishman?”

“Aye. A knight by the looks of him.”

“Black hair?”

“Aye.”

“Blue eyes?”

“Didn’t see them.”