In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe
the pleasure of their company and their bodies, but none of them had touched him. There was something about Kathryn that tugged at his heartstrings, making him feel things that he did not wish to feel.
For so long he had kept all his emotions under rigid control, feeding only on his hatred of the man who had enslaved him. Lorenzo had no memory of being captured. His first memory was of being chained to an oar and the lash of a whip on his shoulders to make him pull harder. He could remember the pain of the cuts on his back, which had been tended by another, older slave during the hours of darkness, and the constant chafing of the manacles on his wrists. The memory made the rough skin beneath his wristbands itch, but he resisted the urge to take them off. To ease them he needed a salve that he kept in his cabin, and he would not expose his one weakness to the eyes of the woman who already had too much power over his emotions.
‘Kathryn…’ he said the words without realising he was speaking. ‘Kathy…sweet little Kathy…’
For a moment there was a roaring in his ears and his mind whirled as the stars disappeared and there was only blackness, deep, deep blackness, and then terrible pain. He made a moaning sound as for one moment he saw something—a girl’s face and blood…
‘Did you speak, sir?’
Lorenzo’s mind cleared as his captain approached him. He frowned, for he was not quite sure what had happened to him. It was as if a curtain had lifted in his mind, revealing some incident from the past, which had never happened before. The time prior to his enslavement had been a complete blank, but just for a moment he had seemed to remember.
‘No, I merely cleared my throat,’ he said, banishing the images that would sap his strength. He must banish her from his mind! He could not allow himself the luxury of caring for a woman like that. ‘We were fortunate today, Michael. Somehow Rachid must have known that we were unaccompanied. It was a mistake. When you deal with wolves you should hunt as they do, in a pack.’
‘There was no time to waste if you were to rescue her,’ Michael said and frowned. ‘I fear she does not understand the law of the sea, Lorenzo. It seems cruel to her to leave men in the sea, but she cannot know what they are capable of or that we were in no position to rescue them.’
‘Women and war do not mix,’ Lorenzo said; he had recovered his usual calm. A little smile touched his mouth, though it did not reach the icy blue of his eyes. ‘Do not allow her to make you feel guilt, my friend. The men we killed today served a cruel master because they wished it and we should feel no pity for them. They would have killed us and used her for their pleasure.’
‘Some did not serve willingly.’
Lorenzo saw the doubts in the other’s face. ‘We pulled three alive from the water,’ he said. ‘The others had no chance, chained to their oars—they went down with the galley. We did not make them slaves, Michael. If we are to rid the seas of such men as Rachid, there will be innocent men who must die. We too may die for our beliefs. Only if we accept this can we carry on our chosen path.’
‘Of course.’ Michael smiled wryly. He should not have allowed himself to weaken because of the accusation in a woman’s eyes. ‘She is very beautiful, Lorenzo, and I am a fool. Forgive me.’
Lorenzo smiled. ‘If we let them, women may make fools of us all, my friend.’
Kathryn saw the deep blue waters of the lagoon and felt a sense of relief to know that she would soon be back with Aunt Mary and Uncle Charles. They had been forced to delay their departure for Cyprus and would no doubt be impatient to leave. They could be no more impatient than she, for then she would not have to see Lorenzo Santorini again.
A part of her knew that she was being both ungrateful and wrong-headed in her judgement of him, but she could not help her feelings of irritation. He was such an arrogant man, so sure of himself. So many men must have died when that galley sunk so quickly, and he had saved only a few of them. How would he feel if he were one of those poor creatures chained to an oar and doomed to die unless someone rescued them? He could know nothing of their suffering or their pain.
She remembered his harshness towards the man he had named William. Was there no softness in him, no compassion? For a moment as he held her on the mountainside she had felt such…warmth, love…desire.
Kathryn’s cheeks flamed as she admitted to herself the mixture of emotions that had swirled through her in those brief moments in his arms. No, it was imagination, she could not have felt anything like that! It would be impossible to love such a cold man. What she had felt had merely been relief.
She turned as the door to her cabin was opened and saw Lorenzo standing there, watching her with those deep blue eyes that stirred such feeling in her.
‘My gondola will take you to my home,’ he told her. ‘Please feel free to do as you please within the house and garden—but do not leave it without my escort.’
‘I shall be only too pleased to be with my aunt again, sir.’
‘Lady Mary and Lord Mountfitchet have gone ahead of us to Cyprus,’ he told her. ‘My galley needs urgent repairs and so I returned to Venice for that purpose.’
‘But…’ Kathryn stared at him in dismay. ‘How am I to…It is not fitting that I stay in your house without Aunt Mary, sir.’
His eyes mocked her. ‘You have lately been a prisoner of Don Pablo, Kathryn. Your reputation must have suffered. If, however, you worry for your virtue, you should know that you are quite safe from me. I have no interest in foolish children.’
Her cheeks burned as she saw the mocking light in his eyes. ‘I did not mean—but my reputation…’ She faltered as she realised that in truth she could no longer claim to have one. She had been Don Pablo’s captive, living on board his ship and in his house for several days. Anything might have happened to her during that time, and some might believe it had. ‘I dare say it is too late to worry what others may think of me…’
Lorenzo’s laughter was low and husky. ‘Let them think what they will, Kathryn,’ he said. ‘The man who weds you will know your innocence is untouched and the others are as nothing.’
‘Yes, you are right, sir.’ She lifted her head proudly, though she was sorely troubled. Reputation was everything to an unmarried girl and hers had been tarnished through no fault of her own.
‘We took three galley slaves from the wreck,’ Lorenzo said. ‘None of them have blue eyes, but when they are well enough they will be questioned for any information concerning Richard Mountfitchet that they may have.’
‘I always called him Dickon,’ Kathryn said, her eyes sad and slightly dreamy. ‘And he called me Kathy…his sweet Kathy. We were but children, but we loved each other well.’
Lorenzo’s gaze narrowed intently. A little nerve was flicking at his temple as he said, ‘If you think of any other information that may be relevant, you may tell me. It should take no more than a week to repair my galley and then I shall escort you to your uncle. I believe he took William with him as you asked.’
‘Thank you…’ She looked into his eyes despite her determination to keep her distance, and her heart caught. Oh, no! She was being foolish. She could not be attracted to this man. It was impossible—wrong! Her heart belonged to Dickon and she would never marry someone who could do the things this man had done. ‘I shall be glad to be with my friends again.’
‘Yes, of course,’ he said. ‘Now, if you please, the gondola is waiting.’
Kathryn paced the floor of her chamber, feeling restless. They had been in Venice for two days now and she had hardly seen Lorenzo at all. Her meals were served to her wherever she wished, but she ate them in solitary state, which only made her feel more alone than ever. It seemed that in being rescued from Don Pablo she had merely exchanged one prison for another.
She was so tired of being in the house! She decided to go down to the courtyard and walk in the garden, but as she went down the stairs and into the main hall, she heard voices and