A Knight's Temptation

by Lana Williams

  “Last eve, after we’d settled in for the night, someone approached the tent.” Alec’s words chilled Braden, catching his full attention.

  “Oh?”

  “I was wide awake, so worried over Lady Cairstine that I couldn’t sleep.” The boy looked away, whether in embarrassment or unease, Braden didn’t know. “I may not have paid much attention if he hadn’t taken care to move with such stealth. There are people up throughout the night with the guests camped here. Some rise to take a piss or to check on things.” He shook his head. “Someone is always moving about.”

  Braden nodded, willing him to continue.

  “He came around the side of the tent, the hood of his cloak pulled low over his face. I stood, thinking it might be someone coming to see how Il—Lady Cairstine fared. But when he caught sight of me, he just nodded and kept walking.” Alec moved his palm through the air to show the direction he’d gone.

  “You might’ve saved your sister’s life.” Alec normally slept in the stables as many of the other squires did. Mayhap whoever had tried to pay a late-night visit expected him to be there instead of outside the tent.

  “I keep thinking over it, wondering if I imagined his odd behavior.”

  “I don’t think you imagined anything. Your sister did not fall off the stairs.” He studied Alec to see if this came as a shock. “She was pushed.”

  “Why? For speaking to Lady Arabela?” Alec didn’t seem surprised in the least.

  “I don’t know. Either someone wants Arabela to have few friends, or they think we’ve been asking too many questions. Either way, we must tread with great care from this point forward.”

  Alec nodded then backed away as Lord Gideon walked toward them.

  “I heard the terrible news,” Gideon said. “How fares your wife?”

  “She’s resting. Her injuries may not have been to the extent initially thought. She woke this morn, and the healer is seeing to her now.” If he could give recognition to Effie for Ilisa’s remarkable recovery, that would make life easier and safer for him.

  But how to convince Effie she aided in Ilisa’s healing? He needed her to report to anyone who asked her that Lady Cairstine’s injuries weren’t as severe as originally thought. Anything that cast attention away from him.

  “My wife is most anxious to visit with Lady Cairstine when she’s ready for visitors.”

  Braden nearly grimaced. That would be the last thing Ilisa wanted. He needed to make certain the lady kept her distance.

  ~*~

  Ilisa’s head spun as Effie spoke. Things were moving so quickly that she could hardly grasp what was happening. She had yet to move from her position, afraid of the terrifying pain returning. But she also knew the worst of it was gone. Her mind couldn’t grasp that. Couldn’t understand how it was possible.

  Braden.

  He was the reason. Somehow. Some way. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it. His behavior as he’d left the tent had made that clear.

  She shifted on the bed, trying to understand the extent of her injuries—or rather, her recovery.

  The weight of Effie’s regard had her stilling. She gathered her thoughts else the healer would think she’d rattled her brain in the fall.

  “Shall we have a look?” the woman asked. At Ilisa’s nod, she drew aside the blankets and lifted her kirtle and chemise to reveal her leg and hip.

  The bruises there were impressive, but not nearly as impressive as the realization that what should’ve been crushed below the black-and-blue skin was now whole. Ilisa couldn’t wrap her mind around how this had come to be.

  She feared Effie had the same thoughts for she stared at her leg overlong. Ilisa could see the questions forming, but she had no answers. She preferred to distract the healer if possible, though she’d already made it clear Ilisa’s lack of injuries was a surprise.

  “I’ve a poultice that should aid you,” Effie said at last, reaching for her basket.

  “How long have you lived here?” Ilisa asked as Effie worked.

  “All my life. My mother was a healer in the village before me and taught me all she knew.”

  The healer’s timing had been most unfortunate. The vulnerability in Braden’s expression had suggested that if she pressed him, he might admit what he’d done—who he was. But she had the suspicion the moment had now passed and wouldn’t come again soon, if ever.

  She’d had her suspicions between the mare at St. Mary’s, Garrick’s remarkable recovery, and then Braden’s horse. Now she knew beyond a doubt that Braden had a gift, one he guarded closely.

  “Lord Graham is lucky to have you.” Ilisa rested her eyes, weary beyond belief, but grateful to be alive and free of the stabbing pain.

  She opened them to find Effie studying her, no doubt trying to reconcile the injuries she’d been told about compared to the ones she saw. “He is not easy to please.”

  “I was visiting his daughter, Arabela, before I fell.” There seemed no point in saying she was pushed until she knew who’d done it. Surely it would be best for her safety and that of Braden and Alec’s if she acted as though she’d fallen. Forgetting the actual events of such an accident wasn’t unusual.

  Effie’s hands stilled. “How was she?”

  “Well. Concerned, of course.” Ilisa wanted to hint that Arabela had confided in her but not say too much. Were Arabela and Effie on friendly terms?

  “Hmm.” Effie applied the poultice then wrapped it with strips of linen. “I’ll leave you a remedy for the pain in case it becomes overbearing. You’ll need to add wine to it, give it a good stir then drink it down.”

  “Who requested that you come?” Ilisa hadn’t seen her attacker, but that didn’t mean she didn’t intend to do all in her power to determine who it was.

  “Monroe sent a servant.” Effie returned her things to the basket. “You had a narrow escape. Many who’ve fallen on the stairs ended up much worse.”

  The sensation of absolute panic as she’d fallen, the stone floor growing ever closer filled her, caused her to swallow hard.

  “What is it?” Effie asked.

  “A bad memory.” Ilisa shook her head, not wanting to talk about it for fear of reliving it once again. One more nightmare to add to the other that already haunted her.

  “Have no fear. That will soon fade.”

  Ilisa nodded, but she knew otherwise. “Have many fallen from the steps?”

  Effie hesitated. “More than you’d think.”

  Did that mean other “accidents” had occurred? “Do you worry for Arabela?” She had to push further for information. Effie surely visited many people and people talked. Their time here would soon be at end, and they still hadn’t gotten what they came here for.

  “I think the lady is worried for the wrong reasons,” Effie said, her hands slowing their work.

  “How do you mean?”

  Effie scowled as though struggling whether to share more. “She worries over her future when she must worry over her present.”

  Ilisa pondered the healer’s words. Mayhap her thoughts were slowed by her ordeal, but she didn’t understand the meaning of her advice. “I’m not certain I understand.”

  Effie shook her head. “I cannot say more on that. But I’ll tell you that you should worry over your present rather than Lady Arabela’s, don’t you think?” Effie’s gaze narrowed as she looked at Ilisa. “I think your concerns keep you tied to your past. You must release them in order to reach for your future.”

  Ilisa raised a hand to her still spinning head, weariness clouding her thoughts. Past. Present. Future. ’Twas too much to consider. “I don’t understand.”

  “It will all make sense soon. Just remember that life is about the moments, not our plans.” Effie hooked her basket over her arm. “I will return on the morrow to see how you fare. If you have need of me before that, send the boy.”

  Ilisa nodded, barely able to keep open her eyes. Yet she wanted to. She wanted to ask Effie to explain her words as she felt a clue was
hidden in them that she was missing.

  And even more, she wanted to talk to Braden, to ask what he’d done. How? Why?

  Instead, her eyes drifted closed, and she slept.

  ~*~

  When Braden learned that Lord Graham had delayed the tournament upon hearing of the terrible accident that had befallen Ilisa, he wasn’t certain whether to be grateful or annoyed.

  Grateful as it gave Ilisa another day to rest and would allow Braden another day to discover who’d tried to kill her. Annoyed as it meant spending at least two additional days here when he was done with this place.

  He returned to the tent soon after the healer left, only to find Ilisa sleeping soundly. Determined to make good use of the opportunity, he asked Alec to watch over Ilisa and went to the keep to look over the place where he’d found her, hoping the daylight would reveal something. As he stood there, anger washed through him. Who had turned her over? Why?

  The only possible explanation was because the villain wanted to see if she lived. Someone knew something, of that he had no doubt. Now to see if he could find out whom.

  He hurried up the tower steps from which she’d fallen to the upper floor and knocked on Arabela’s chamber door. Though he knew it was inappropriate to attempt to speak with her there, the events were unusual and so called for unusual action.

  Unfortunately, she didn’t answer. Did she know Cairstine had suffered a grave injury after coming to see her? He no longer knew what to think of Graham’s daughter. At this point, everyone remained suspect.

  Since someone had tried to kill Ilisa, did that mean he should expect an attempt on his own life? What of Alec?

  Had they asked so many questions that it stirred concern with Graham? Or had it been as he’d first thought—someone wanted to keep Arabela isolated?

  He went back down the steps and found Monroe entering the keep.

  “I was just at your tent. Your squire told me your wife is recovering quite well. Much better than expected in fact.” Monroe appeared stunned at the news.

  “She is. It seems her injuries were not as severe as I first thought. Mayhap she didn’t fall as far as I feared.”

  Monroe shook his head. “’Tis a miracle. When I saw her last eve... I thought she might not survive the night.”

  “The healer, Effie, came this morn. She was of great help.”

  Monroe’s eyes narrowed as if doubtful of his words but he nodded anyway. “I’m pleased to hear that.”

  “Have you seen Lady Arabela?”

  “Nay, but then I rarely do. Have you checked the stables? You’re more likely to find her there than in the keep.”

  “My thanks.” Braden didn’t waste time going into the great hall but headed directly for the stables.

  Before he could begin inquiries of anyone, he wanted to know what Arabela and Ilisa had discussed. With that information, he might be able to prompt a conversation that would force the attempted murderer to give himself away.

  Might.

  Yet as he neared the stables, the urge to return to Ilisa’s side overcame his desire to speak with Arabela. He needed to make certain his wife was well. He changed his direction to the outer bailey. Most everyone was out on the list, practicing for the joust. He strode to the tent, relieved to see Alec standing guard at the entrance.

  “All is well?” he asked.

  “Aye. She woke briefly.” The relief in his eyes warmed Braden. “We didn’t have a chance to speak much as Lady Arabela has called upon her.” He tipped his head toward the tent.

  The news surprised Braden but made him feel better as well. He was pleased the lady with whom Ilisa had last spoken had taken the time to find out how she fared. Though tempted to join them, he decided to give them a few more moments. Mayhap Arabela would be shocked enough at the “accident” to reveal something of interest. Mayhap something good would come from Ilisa’s brush with death, though the price was too high.

  Chapter Seventeen

  When Ilisa next woke, she found Braden beside her on the bed, eyes closed, his face relaxed in sleep.

  The emotions swelling through her included gratitude, for she had an idea of how much it cost him to do what he’d done. But gratitude paled in comparison to the other feelings washing through her.

  Dare she put a name to them? Something that might allow her to better understand them?

  Nay. ’Twas too soon. It couldn’t be true. Not yet. Not when their futures would take such different paths.

  Instead, she would do as the healer suggested and focus on the present. Effie had said life was about the moment, not the plans one made.

  This was one of those moments. She knew it deep inside.

  She watched Braden, noting the length of his lashes as they brushed his cheek, his dark beard, the sweep of his hair over his forehead, the arch of his brow. His chest moved, making her long to press her hand against it so she might feel his heart beating.

  The tenderness welling inside her brought tears to her eyes. She blinked to keep them at bay.

  Live one moment at a time, she reminded herself. Rather than avoiding what was happening as she had so many times in the past few years, she wished to hold onto this. To hold onto Braden. She eased closer, amazed she could with so little pain. The heat of his body sank into her, and she breathed in his woodsy scent. He was handsome, his strength and confidence adding to his appeal. She indulged herself, reaching out to press her hand to his chest just over his heart. It beat strong and steady.

  When his warm hand came to rest on top of hers, she drew a tremulous breath then met his gaze.

  “Ilisa. How do you fare?”

  “You already know the answer to that question, do you not?”

  His expression shuttered, causing her to regret her words. She turned her hand to grasp his, still resting their clasped hands on his chest. “Braden. Tell me,” she whispered. She wanted him to trust her enough to explain the amazing ability he had.

  He looked away.

  “Please.” She lifted their interlocked hands, turning them so she might kiss the back of his.

  He swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “What do you mean? Your injuries weren’t as severe as first thought, and rest has aided you greatly.”

  “Braden.” He looked at her again after a moment’s pause. “You can trust me. Surely you know that by now. We are in this together, you and I.”

  A muscle clenched in his jaw. “Are we?”

  “We are. For better or worse. Remember?”

  “Those were false vows.”

  She bit her lip to stay the hurt that filled her. Is that what he still believed? Because she was no longer certain that was true. How could she convince him to confide in her? If he didn’t trust her enough to explain, how could they move forward?

  “You touched me,” she said. “You pulled the pain from my body...” This part was less clear. She only guessed based on what little she’d seen and how it had felt. “And into yours. You healed me.”

  “Ilisa.” A hint of a plea accompanied her name.

  “’Tis true, isn’t it? You are an amazing healer with powers beyond any I’ve ever seen.”

  “Some might accuse me of darkness.” Braden watched her carefully.

  “Not I.”

  His lips twisted as though forming words was difficult. “Some would call it a curse.”

  “Why?” She shook her head. “’Tis a gift. Of that, I have no doubt. I would better understand it. And you.”

  He closed his eyes briefly before meeting her gaze. “At times ’tis both. But if it helped you, then I’m pleased.”

  She lifted his hand to examine it, running her fingers over the back and palm, calluses and all, astonished at what he’d done. “Thank you. I know it hurt you terribly.”

  “Things worth achieving are rarely easy.”

  Her heart fluttered. Did that mean he believed healing her had been worthwhile? That she was worthwhile? She couldn’t find the courage to ask. The hope in her heart was too new,
too fragile to risk.

  For now, she’d hold onto the moment.

  ~*~

  A short while later, Braden stepped out of the tent, leaving Ilisa to rest. He didn’t know how he felt about her knowing his secret. While she’d said she thought his ability was a gift, doubt remained.

  He held tight to the realization that she hadn’t run screaming as he’d once thought she would.

  For now, that was enough.

  He’d been disappointed to learn that no new information had come from Arabela’s visit with Ilisa. The lady hadn’t seen or heard anyone near her chamber after Ilisa left. Ilisa told him she’d been careful how she’d worded her questions as she hadn’t wanted to tell Arabela that someone had pushed her. Such a revelation would have to wait a little longer.

  Shouting came from the direction of the portcullis. Several guards galloped past him to join the others there. Something was obviously amiss.

  “What’s happened?” Braden asked one of the men who strode toward the gate.

  “Someone has arrived with no invitation,” he said, pausing. “The guards are not inclined to allow him entrance.”

  “Most unwise of him.” Braden shook his head. Once again, he was grateful Prioress Matilda had insisted on obtaining an invitation for them. As closely as the guards had checked theirs, he doubted the new arrival would gain admittance.

  “Apparently, he’s trying to charm his way past the guards,” the man added with a grin. “I’m going to see how that’s working.”

  Braden’s body stiffened as his thoughts raced. It couldn’t be, could it? Before he could decide, his feet started toward the gate.

  Alec called after him but rather than pause, Braden waved for him to join him. Ilisa would be fine for a brief time, and the tent would remain in view.

  “Where are you off to in such a rush?” Alec asked, breathless.

  “There’s someone at the gate with no invitation.”

  “How does that concern us?”