OUTLAW in the Tudor Court. Anne HerriesЧитать онлайн книгу.
‘I was happy enough to live as you do,’ she said. ‘Do you travel with me on this ship, sir?’ Her heart was fluttering as she waited for his response, for though she feared what he did to her with those devastating eyes, she also longed for it.
‘No, on my personal galley,’ Lorenzo replied. ‘You will be safe enough for we shall escort you to Cyprus. I have some business there with Lord Mountfitchet.’
‘Yes, of course,’ she said, though she sensed that he was not telling her the whole truth. ‘It is good of you to go to so much trouble for my sake.’
‘But I do not want to lose my ransom,’ he said, an odd smile on his lips. ‘Surely you must know that, Kathryn?’
‘You shame me, sir,’ she said, blushing. ‘I was wrong to say such things to you.’
‘Were you?’ His eyes narrowed, intent on her face. ‘I am not ashamed of what I do.’
‘Why should you be?’ She flushed deeper as he looked at her more closely, clearly wondering why she had changed her mind, and knew that she must be careful or she would betray Michael’s confidence. ‘Any man is worthy of his hire. If you do someone a service, they should expect to pay for it.’
Lorenzo inclined his head. ‘I have questioned the men we took from Rachid’s galley. No one knows anything of a youth taken from Cornwall all those years ago. It was not likely that they would. I believe that you will never find the man you seek, Kathryn. And if you did…he would not be the same man.’
‘I know…’ She sighed. ‘I have begun to think that it may be best if Dickon is never found. Sometimes I hope that he died long ago. I had heard stories of men being put to the galleys as slaves, but I did not understand what it meant until now. It must be the most soul-destroying thing that a man can suffer, to be forced to work so hard and to know that he is a slave…’
‘Dickon is dead,’ Lorenzo said, his eyes violet dark. ‘The youth you once loved would not have survived without becoming someone very different, believe me.’
‘Yes, I know,’ she said and her voice caught with tears. ‘I know that his father will go on searching for him, but I shall try to remember him as a friend that died.’
‘It would be a waste if you were to spend your life waiting for a man who will never come back to you,’ Lorenzo told her. ‘You should marry, Kathryn. I dare say you would not look at Michael Ignacio, though I know he cares for you. And I can vouch for him as a man of good family and honest values. You could do much worse than to marry a man such as he, for I dare say he would give up the sea for your sake.’
‘If I felt that way for him, I should be pleased to wed him,’ she replied, her eyes stinging with the tears she held back. He was doing his best to persuade her to think of Michael as a husband. Why should he do that? It could only mean that he was telling her not to think of him. She looked at him proudly, coldly. ‘Perhaps I may marry one day—when I return to England. But I am not sure that I could be happy with any other man than Dickon. It may be that I shall never marry.’
Lorenzo nodded and frowned, silent for a moment, then he said, ‘When do you plan to return home?’
‘I do not know,’ Kathryn said. ‘I shall stay with Lady Mary and Lord Mountfitchet for some months and then…’ She could not go on, for her heart felt as if it were breaking, and she wanted to say that she would stay for ever if only he cared for her. His eyes seemed dark with some hidden emotion as he looked at her, but he said nothing that could give her encouragement, nothing to indicate that she meant anything to him. She must put her foolish notions from her head. She could not love a man such as Lorenzo Santorini.
But of course she didn’t! He had called her a foolish child enough times, and she knew that he must despise her for the trouble she had caused him.
‘I believe there will be a campaign in a few months,’ Lorenzo told her, changing the subject abruptly. ‘His Holiness the Pope has gathered a great alliance to try and wipe the scourge of the Turkish invaders from our seas, and, with the demise of their power, much of the piracy that takes place under their flag. I have pledged my support, but if you waited until the following spring I should be happy to escort you to your home.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Kathryn said. She lifted her head proudly, blinking back her tears. ‘I think my father or brother may come to fetch me—but if I should need your help, I shall ask for it.’
‘As you wish,’ he said and smiled. ‘We shall meet again on Cyprus. Excuse me, I have work to do.’
Kathryn felt the tears she could no longer restrain trickle down her face as he walked from the cabin. He was so withdrawn, so distant. How could she have been so foolish as to fall in love with him?
No, no, of course she wasn’t in love with him. It was just that he had saved her from a terrible fate, and she was grateful to him. Yes, that was it. She was grateful to him, and she liked him. It was reasonable to like him for she owed him a great deal. But she did not love him. She must remember who and what he was, a cold, harsh man who lived by the sword.
No, she could never love such a man.
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