If she were only in the garden
again--free--she would fly to some place of safety.
He lowered his voice into a passionate whisper and leant over,
catching her hand as she would withdraw it. He began to draw her
toward him. Her fear was evident, for Monmouth, drunk as he was, saw
it, and fell to coaxing. His voice, not yet maudlin, was sweet and
impassioned.
"Thou were not afraid when that Russian knave claimed thee and was
about to carry thee off, and now thou hast the King's son to guard and
love thee--love--dost hear it, my Precious? And I came to claim thee
this night, to tell thee all I know, to make the little Convent Maid
wise." He threw his arm about her, almost drawing her from the chair.
Katherine was white and trembling, knowing not which way to turn.
"Indeed, sir, I know not thy meaning."
"My meaning? Dost not thou know what love is? Of course thou dost
not--if thou didst, it might be I should not care to be thy tutor.
Come, I will teach thee this night--now, my Pretty,--now. Come, come
with me.
Pages:
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331