Free The Bride of Windermere by Margo Maguire

knew Philip’s true character. The man and his father had been responsible for butchering his family. Philip was capable of any abomination, and Wolf girded himself against the surge of anger that threatened to disintegrate his calm facade.
    â€œIt is interesting—and unusual—for King Henry to send emissaries far and wide throughout the land, is it not?” Philip asked.
    â€œYou mean to say you have not been visited before?” Nicholas countered, answering for Wolf. He sensed his cousin’s seething anger and gave Wolf the opportunity to master it.
    Philip looked suspiciously at the two huge men sent by the king. There was something vaguely familiar about the silvery-gray eyes of the one called Gerhart. “Should I have been?”
    â€œWhy, of course,” Nicholas replied. “It is merely a courtesy extended by our sovereign. His majesty has long been abroad. How can he know how you fare without—”
    At this juncture, Lady Kathryn was escorted into the hall by a gangly footman. Nicholas finished whatever it was he was saying to Lord Philip, but Wolf didn’t hear him. He was stunned by her unexpected transformation. Though her head and hair were completely covered by a soft linen headpiece trimmed in green, she was clothed now in women’s garb. A deep green velvet gown draped her feminine form from her neck to her toes. The gown was elegant in its simplicity, though even Wolf could see that there was some stitchery of considerable skill embroidered along the deep sleeves.
    The gown itself revealed little of Kathryn’s form, though the grace of her movements was undeniable. Her hands and wrists were now clean, and he saw that they were small and delicately shaped. The damage done to her face was healing, and he was strangely pleased to note that she did not alter the directness of her emerald-green gaze to suit her position as a guest of the earl in the great hall of Windermere.
    There was a vague awareness, tugging at the edges of Wolf’s consciousness, that Lady Kathryn had the bearing of a duchess.

Chapter Four
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    W olf’s powers of speech returned when he was forced to introduce Kathryn to Philip. She greeted the earl, tipping her head almost regally. She then took Philip’s arm when it was offered, leaving Wolfram and Nicholas to follow them to the dais. Several guests were milling about, waiting for the earl in order to be seated and begin the meal.
    Kit noticed that though Wolf wasn’t exactly frowning at her, his expression left something to be desired. He appeared completely astonished to see that she was what she said.
    A woman.
    Fully grown.
    The word “Sprout” popped into her mind, and her chin rose a notch.
    â€œYou grace my hall most delightfully, my lady,” Philip said as he seated her on his right. Wolf and his German cousin sat some distance from the earl and Kathryn, but they were still able to hear most of their conversation. Wolf thought Lady Kathryn appeared somewhat small and vulnerable with her bruised eye and the healing gash on her lip. His muscles clenched reflexively, knowing that she was exactly the kind of victim Philip relished.
    â€œIt has been many months since Windermere has been blessed with the charms of one so lovely,” Wolf heard Philip say to Kathryn.
    â€œOur condolences on the loss of your lady,” one of the barons said.
    â€œOh, my,” Kit’s eyebrows came together in concern for the earl. “Your wife has recently...died?”
    â€œYes, Clarisse died last November, poor girl,” Philip muttered.
    The name “Clarisse” shot through her like an arrow. What was it Maggie had said about her?
    Wolf didn’t detect a bit of emotion from his cousin when he spoke of his dead wife. In fact, Philip seemed altogether too enthralled by Lady Kathryn, and Wolf didn’t care much for it. Any normal man would have been able to produce at least some outward sign