Read Online The Bride of Windermere by Margo Maguire - Free Book Online

unjustly.
    â€œMy thanks, sir,” she said to him.
    He barely nodded, acknowledging her thanks. There was a disturbing depth, an almost haunted look, in his eyes.
    â€œThe nurse is your cousin?” he asked, and Kit’s fleeting impression of a man tormented disintegrated with his words. In his place was a powerful man, coolly controlled.
    â€œWell, yes. Distant, though. She is...a gentlewoman.” Her voice faltered as the full effect of his altered gaze slammed through her. She glanced down at his lips as he spoke and recalled the heat and taste of his mouth. His presence suddenly flustered her. He was so very appealing, and he had come to Bridget’s aid with such ease. “She is my...my mother’s second cousin. A Cochran of County Louth...”
    â€œHold,” he raised a hand to stop her. “I daresay I know more of your family than I could ever wish to.”
    Nicholas saw the flash of anger in Kathryn’s eyes. “Can you manage on your own now, Lady Kathryn?” he quickly interjected.
    Kit damned Wolf silently for making her feel like a child and turned to speak to Nicholas. “Yes. Of course.”
    â€œThen until later, my lady...” Nicholas left her with Bridget to go seek out his own quarters. Wolf was already gone.
    The gardener came up along with the local priest who dabbled in herbology. The two decided on a decoction of iris root and willow bark, which they gave Bridget along with several of Father Fowler’s best blessings and prayers for a speedy recovery. Since their prescription did not differ much from what Kit had planned to give Bridget, she allowed them to proceed without interference. Who could tell? Perhaps the priest’s prayers would do her more good than the medicinal powders.
    The two men had scarcely left when servants arrived with buckets of hot water which they poured into a stout wooden tub. The younger one, a dark-haired girl, added wood to the fire and fanned it, bringing up a cozy flame.
    â€œâ€™Tis a mite cold,” she said, glancing over at Bridget, asleep in the big bed. “We’ll keep it nice ’n toasty for the lady there... get the damp out.”
    â€œThank you.” Kit took off her hat and began to loosen her hair from its long, confining braid.
    â€œThere’s a special banquet planned for this evenin‘, milady,” the dark-haired girl said. “I doubt Mistress Hanchaw could be bothered to tell—”
    â€œMaggie!” the older girl cried. “‘Twill never do for ye to be tellin’ tales about the mistress. Of course she was goin’ to tell the lady.”
    Maggie snorted.
    â€œWell, she was, I tell ye.”
    â€œAnnie, you know as well as I, nothin’ that wily witch likes better than to watch a sweet lady squirm.” Maggie poured a pail of hot water into the tub. “Remember how she baited Lady Clarisse—”
    â€œHold yer tongue, ye fool! Or yer blathering’ll get you set out but good! And me as well!”
    â€œAs I was sayin‘, milady.” Maggie turned back to Kit with great dignity, ignoring the other girl. “There’s to be a grand celebration tonight for the beginning of the fair. It opens tomorrow in Windermere town, and all the barons and squires from hereabouts will be attending. All their ladies, too, so you’ll want to be at your best.”
    Annie started to gather up the linens they were meant to deliver to the other Windermere guests. “Tall Lawrence will fetch ye for supper—”
    â€œâ€™Tis a shame about your eye,” Maggie said, lingering, studying Kit’s face. “All green and yellow now. No way to conceal it, I don’t suppose...”
    Kit shook her head and sent the maids on their way with assurances that she could manage her bath alone. There were certainly more pressing matters for them to attend to, if there were guests at the castle.
    Bridget was breathing easily and