Free Her Lord and Protector (formerly titled On Silent Wings) by Pam Roller Page A

eyes.
    “No. Wait,” Alex
said, walking toward her, hating himself for fouling this up. “I am sorry. ’Tis
an old boyhood wound within me that has never healed. I just need to forget
about it.” He speared his fingers through his hair. “I am not doing so well in
helping you lessen your pain, am I?”
    In answer,
Katherine shook her head. For a frozen moment she wavered. Then, she moistened
her lips, slowly reached out her hand, and folded her bandaged fingers over
his.
    Her gentle brown
eyes and tender touch made Alex take a sudden, ragged breath. He looked down at
her small hand in his and then enveloped it, gently and completely, with his.
    And by the
heavens, he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss away all her hurt. “Katherine,
I—”
    A sudden flap of
wings and angry chirping broke the moment. Overhead, two birds carried on an
in-air brawl, mayhap over some female.
    Katherine
blinked then, seeming to awaken from a dream, and pulled her hand from his.
Without a glance back, she whirled and fled toward the house.
    Alex stood
staring after her with a mixture of bemusement and relief. Then, shoving out a
breath, he remounted Neos and trotted the horse toward the barn.
    He hadn’t asked
her what she knew. But her acute compassion told him he didn’t have to.
    Until she was
protected by marriage, he would keep her safe.
    ****
    That evening, as
Katherine finished dressing for dinner, she frowned with concern at Millie’s
despondent countenance. She placed a light hand on the maid’s shoulder.
    “It’s yer hands,
the bandages. Reminds me of Lady Drayton. She often—” Millie abruptly turned to
the dressing table. She busily straightened the brush, comb, and ribbons in
their case.
    Katherine
stepped closer to Millie and met her eyes in the mirror.
    Finally, Millie
spoke. “She bit her nails, tore at them until her fingers bled. I tried to keep
them wrapped, but it didn’t help. She just took off the bandages. Two of her
fingers lost the nails completely.”
    Katherine’s
fingertips stung afresh. In the mirror she caught her wince, but also saw the
same sorrow she had felt this morning after Lord Drayton had shared his grief.
Briefly felt, anyway, until he had gone into his tirade of revenge.
    Did it matter
that his heart could shatter, that he was not the unemotional boar he strove to
appear? No. It did not. She would do well to remember not only that he wanted
her gone from his life, but also that he was capable of a fierce vengeance.
    What of the man
he had gone to see in Kensington? She would try to write her questions during
the meal.
    As Millie helped
her put on her shoes, someone knocked at the door. Millie opened it to a
sprightly maid who stood with a tray of food in her hands.
    “Lord Drayton
sends her ladyship’s meal.”
    Katherine stared
at the tray in confusion.
    “Her ladyship is
going to the dining room,” Millie told the girl. She turned questioningly
toward Katherine.
    “But he ordered
supper brought to her room,” the younger servant said.
    Why? To make her
stay in her bedchamber until her departure? Katherine’s cheeks flushed hotly
and her heart drummed like the hooves of a runaway mare.
    Oh, no. The
scoundrel might think he could dictate every aspect of her life and frighten
her with his seething male anger, but he was truly mistaken. Hot wrath rushed
through her as she looked at Millie and pointed to her slate.
    She strode past
both servants out of her room.

Chapter Nine
     
    When Katherine
stood in the doorway of the dining room, Alex knew that his calm dinner,
attended by Elizabeth, Robert, and two woman-chasing merchants from London, was
at an end. But with her eyes ablaze and cheeks flaming color, Katherine’s fury
only made her more beautiful.
    “Good evening,
Lady Katherine,” Robert said in a mild tone. Brows raised, his gaze lowered to
her hands, then back to her face. “How are you?”
    She acknowledged
Robert with a curt nod and then resumed glaring at Alex, who,