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

others you’ve been found, and send Millie to
bandage your fingers. And someone will come in the morning to look at the
closet door. The handle is old. Perhaps it became stuck.”
    Alex stepped
over to the window to shut it. “I do not know if anyone informed you,” he
couldn’t help but add, “but I do not allow the windows in this house to show.”
He jerked the curtain into place. “Ever.”
    Even with her
narrowed look of annoyance she was stunning, lying there with her hair flowing
over the pillow and the lace of her nightclothes caressing her breasts with
each breath she took. The memory of her firm warm body in his arms made him
remain, unmoving, until she looked pointedly at the door.
    “Yes.
Goodnight.” He left the room and strode down the corridor with his hands balled
into tight fists. He must be hard, unbreakable. No emotion.
    He would
absolutely begin sending word tomorrow that there was a marriageable woman of
nobility under his guardianship.

Chapter Seven
     
    The pulsating
pain in her fingers woke Katherine, and the feminine snore resounding from one
corner made her sit up hurriedly. She slipped out of bed, crossed the floor,
and moved the drapes with her thumbs just far enough to see Millie asleep in a
chair with her ample chin resting upon her chest.
    The maid
puckered her brow and smacked her lips. “Toll ye t’fetch th’ blasted hot water,”
she mumbled.
    Katherine turned
back toward the window and blinked at the sunlight that soaked into her face
like a welcome poultice. The incident of the night before seemed now only a
dream, but her throbbing fingertips confirmed that it wasn’t. How shameful that
Lord Drayton had found her in a faint in her closet. Her misfortune would only
quicken his removal of her.
    She examined her
hands, wrapped in cloth to anchor the pad of cotton wadding at the ends of each
of her fingers. Communicating through written words would be difficult until
her fingertips ceased their throbbing ache.
    In the meantime,
golden shafts breaking through the clouds bathed the green hills outside her
window. The bright, open space pulled at her spirit. She would never grow used
to this dark, depressing castle, her somber room, the portrait of the wretched
woman in the closet.
    One hour later,
Millie helped Katherine into a blue skirt and then laced it at the back. She
waited while Katherine eased her hands through the sleeves of a loose jacket,
and then she fastened the tiny pearl buttons up the front. “Poor lady,” she
cooed. “Stuck in yer closet. Wish I’d stayed in here at bedtime. It’s me own
fault, y’know.” She stared ruefully at Katherine’s hands.
    Katherine shook
her head and patted Millie lightly on her plump shoulder, then stepped into
heeled leather shoes. Her fear of small spaces was her own foolishness and
nothing more.
    “Lady Drayton,
she never wanted me in here,” Millie continued as she folded Katherine’s
nightclothes. “Specially when Lady Agnes came over t’help her. They would
whisper and laugh, and I think there was drinkin’ goin’ on. I found empty brandy
goblets.” She turned to Katherine. “So I didn’t know if ye wanted me t’stay
with ye or not. I told Lord Drayton as much, but I fear he’ll put me out because
of what happened to ye.”
    He would do no
such thing. Katherine watched Millie, shoulders slumping, put her nightclothes
into the cabinet. She must let him know right away that the maid was not at
fault for what happened. Taking a deep breath, she walked to the door.
    Her remaining
days in Lord Drayton’s home simply could not be as dreadful as these first few.
    She gestured for
her slate, and Millie picked it up. No matter that she wouldn’t be able to use
it until her fingers healed, the slate had become such a part of Katherine that
she couldn’t bring herself to leave it behind.
    Nearing the
stairs, she heard heavy footsteps. At the sight of Lord Drayton below on the
first landing, Katherine wasn’t sure whether