A Knight's Temptation

by Lana Williams

  “We know who pushed my wife.”

  Chanse straightened, ready to do battle. “Who?”

  “Monroe,” Braden whispered when he wanted to yell the man’s name and draw his sword to run him through.

  Chanse’s gaze swung to the steward who spoke with several men. “Damn. I wouldn’t have guessed. Do we confront him now?”

  “With only her word against his, we’ll wait for a more private moment to exact revenge,” Braden said. “Too many in the hall might defend him, including Graham.”

  “We can’t wait long as we leave on the morrow.”

  “We’ll make certain an opportunity presents itself,” Braden said, unwilling to settle for anything less. He looked again at the steward to find him studying all three of them, eyes narrowed.

  Braden stared back, not caring if the man realized they knew of his guilt. After all, Braden intended to tell him soon enough. In fact, he looked forward to it.

  ~*~

  Braden slept fitfully that night, images of Monroe pushing Ilisa off the stairs running through his mind time and again. His anger wouldn’t subside enough to allow him to truly rest.

  Braden intended to confront the steward before they left. He couldn’t kill him as not only would it be murder, it would mean risking Graham’s wrath. But he’d do all he could to put the fear of God into the steward.

  Only two or three days remained before they’d arrive back in Berwick. More than likely, this would be the last night he slept beside Ilisa. He was almost grateful for thoughts of Monroe as they kept him from pulling her into his arms and making love to her.

  That didn’t mean he didn’t appreciate the feel of her cuddled against him.

  Once they arrived back at St. Mary’s, he wanted to have a long conversation with her to share what was in his heart and see if a future together was possible. Had she overcome her aversion of English knights? What of her wish to join St. Mary’s? Would she consider setting that aside for him?

  He had many questions, none of which could be discussed until they were far from Graham’s holding.

  Ilisa stirred as the sky lightened. Soon the time to pack their belongings would be upon them. He was anxious to be gone but leaving before he had a chance to confront Monroe was not an option.

  “Sir Hugh? Lady Cairstine?” Alec’s voice from outside the tent held a note of urgency Braden didn’t like.

  Ilisa was awake in an instant, her worried gaze meeting Braden’s.

  “I’ll see what’s amiss,” Braden said and stood to hurriedly pull on his chausses and tunic. Then he lifted the tent flap, his stomach dropping at the sight that awaited him.

  Monroe smiled, gripping Alec’s arm tightly, his other hand hidden. The lad’s face was pale and pinched with pain. He cradled one arm with care.

  “Good morn, Sir Hugh.” Monroe kept his voice low, his position to the side and just behind Alec as though using him as a partial shield. “We’ve come to have a few words with you.”

  “Alec, what happened?” Braden ignored the steward to study the boy.

  Alec blinked rapidly, his nostrils flaring, his lips pressed tight. Braden knew beyond a doubt that he fought against pain. When Alec glanced at Monroe, Braden had the answer as to who had caused it.

  “What have you done?” Braden demanded, aware of Ilisa coming to stand at his side, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

  “Alec?” she cried. She stepped toward her brother, but Braden took her arm to hold her back.

  How could he have missed the cruelness in Monroe’s eyes? In the set of his mouth? His expression held a gleeful delight Braden had witnessed a few times before, beginning with the boy who’d broken the bird’s wing to force Braden to heal it.

  A sick feeling surged within Braden. “Alec, come inside so we might aid you.” He reached toward him, only to have Monroe jerk him back.

  Alec cried out at the jarring motion, still cradling his arm. Had Monroe broken it? Alec’s small movement revealed that Monroe held a knife pointed at the boy’s side. A broken bone wasn’t the only part of Alec’s body that pained him.

  “Your squire and I had a chat. But he refused to answer my questions with anything but lies. I don’t appreciate being lied to.”

  “The boy is no concern of yours,” Braden warned, easing closer. “He serves me.”

  “Release him at once,” Ilisa demanded.

  “I think not.” A smile played about Monroe’s lips. Clearly, he enjoyed having the upper hand.

  “Do you intend to shove him down the stairs as you did to me?” Ilisa asked.

  “Ah.” Monroe nodded. “I thought perhaps you’d remembered what had happened. Last eve. During the dancing.”

  Braden wanted to keep Monroe talking until he could think of some way to free Alec without the steward causing him further harm.

  “If you remembered that,” Monroe continued, “then you’ve realized your friendship with Lady Arabela is not welcome.”

  “We’re leaving. What difference does it make whether we’ve become friends?” Ilisa’s body quivered beside Braden’s.

  “Friends offer sympathy and give advice. We wouldn’t want her to suddenly think she has a choice in her future. However, none of that matters with what I’ve discovered about your husband.”

  Braden braced himself, wishing the steward wasn’t going to say what Braden knew was coming.

  “What on earth are you speaking about?” Ilisa put enough derision in her tone to have Monroe glaring at her before he returned his attention to Braden.

  “Think of the boon your ability will be to Lord Graham.” The steward’s eyes gleamed with a strange light. “No one will doubt whomever he chooses as the future King of Scotland will be the right person with you at his side. ’Twill be a sign from heaven no one can ignore.”

  “I won’t be at his side,” Braden said.

  “But first I need you to perform a small test,” Monroe continued as though Braden hadn’t spoken. “I saw Lady Cairstine on the floor after I’d pushed her. And I checked her. Her leg was broken in more than one place. She’d struck her head. When I heard you coming, I hid.”

  “You’re the one who turned her over.” The rage Braden felt at someone having found her but done nothing to aid her returned, causing him to clench his fist.

  “I thought she’d be dead. But nay. She still breathed. It would’ve been so much simpler if she’d died. At least for me. But now I see ’twas all for a greater purpose.”

  If it weren’t for Monroe’s knife pointed at Alec, Braden would’ve killed the man where he stood. He needed to set aside his anger so he could think of a plan to save the three of them.

  “Imagine my surprise to hear the lady was walking and talking the next day. How had this miracle come to pass? When I told Lord Graham of what had occurred, he didn’t believe me. I need you to prove it for me. That will return me to his good graces. Especially when he understands the gift I’m giving him. Of you.”

  “You make no sense,” Braden said. “Release the boy. He has nothing to do with this.”

  Monroe gave Alec a little shake, causing him to whimper. “Oh, but he does now.”

  “How?” Braden asked. He could see no way to gain Alec’s freedom without endangering him.

  As though sensing Braden’s urge, Monroe took a step back, jerking Alec with him. “Stay where you are and listen carefully. You will meet me in the great hall to show Graham your amazing ability. If you refuse, I will be forced to continue breaking this boy’s bones until there are none left to break. Then I’ll start carving him up. Or is it only bones you can fix?”

  “Nay!” Ilisa cried out as she rushed toward her brother.

  Braden grabbed her to hold her back. “I have no ‘amazing ability’ to show you or your lord. I cannot help you. Release Alec so we can take him to your healer. She is the one with a gift.”

  Monroe only laughed. “You and I know the truth. Meet me in the great hall anon.”

  “Alec,” Ilisa cried,
trying to pull free from Braden, but he held her tight.

  Monroe drew Alec backward so he could watch Braden until they were a fair distance away before they turned toward the keep, moving quickly out of sight.

  “Why didn’t you do something?” Ilisa demanded, tears running down her cheeks as she turned to face Braden. “You let him take my brother.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ilisa stared at Braden in disbelief. Where was the honorable, caring man she’d come to know? Who was this man who refused to aid her brother?

  “Ilisa,” he began, still holding her arm.

  She tugged it away, not wanting him to touch her. Not until he explained himself.

  Surely he wasn’t anything like the English knights who’d destroyed Berwick. Yet she couldn’t shake her doubt. Why had he not done something—anything—to save Alec? How could she separate that fact from what she’d witnessed and still relived so many times in her nightmares?

  “Why?” She wiped away the tears, yet they continued to fall. Fear was guiding her in this moment, but she couldn’t help it. All she could see was Alec’s expression, full of pain and helplessness. “He’s only a boy. Why didn’t you do something? Or allow me to help him?”

  “There was no way to free him when Monroe had a knife pointed at his side.”

  She stilled. “A knife?”

  “I wasn’t willing to risk further harm to Alec.”

  “I didn’t realize Monroe had a knife.” She placed both hands over her face as fear and embarrassment washed through her. She’d been so focused on Alec that she hadn’t noticed the knife. Hadn’t realized the danger. She hated how helpless she felt, unable to give assistance to her brother when he needed it most. “Oh, Alec. He must be terrified. We’ve got to do something.”

  “I’ll do all in my power to free him.”

  She lowered her hands to look into Braden’s eyes. “And heal him?” The knowledge that Alec was in terrible pain was unbearable.

  He clenched his jaw. “I need time to determine how best to proceed.”

  “But if we don’t do what Monroe wants, he’ll further harm Alec.” Panic took hold at the thought.

  “If we do as he requests, the risk is great that we won’t be allowed to leave. Graham’s demands won’t end once he learns the truth.” Braden took her hands in his. “I’m asking you to trust me. To trust in us.”

  She hesitated. Could she?

  He released her when she didn’t answer. “Pack your things as we’ll be leaving as soon as I free Alec. I’m going to speak with Chanse. Then I’ll go to the keep.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  “Nay. ’Tis too dangerous. Wait here.”

  “I’m coming too,” she repeated. She refused to leave Alec’s fate to anyone else, plus remaining here, wondering what was happening, would make her crazed.

  “Very well.” Braden looked away, giving her the distinct impression she’d disappointed him. But until Alec was safe, her and Braden’s feelings for each other didn’t matter. “I’m going to speak with Chanse then I’ll return for you.”

  Ilisa watched him go with a lump in her throat, wondering how everything had gone so wrong.

  ~*~

  James smiled, unable to believe his good fortune as he waited in the solar just off the great hall. If Monroe told the truth, that was. The steward’s claims were nearly unbelievable. A knight who held the power to heal? Such a thing sounded impossible.

  His anger had grown ten-fold after the outcome of the melee. Monroe hadn’t delivered any of the promises he’d made. Chanse and Hugh had emerged from the tournament unscathed. James’s plan to award Arabela to the champion had been ruined as Chanse had won two of the three competitions. James had wanted a true champion, preferably one he already favored. One who understood his place in Scotland’s future and whose vision aligned with James’s. None of that had come to pass.

  But when Monroe had pulled him aside after the feast last eve to tell him of his suspicions, James’s disgust had eased.

  If Monroe had truly pushed Lady Cairstine from near the top of the tower stairs, she would’ve suffered significant injuries. Yet she’d walked into his hall the next day as if nothing had occurred. The only person she’d been with was her husband. James well knew their village healer had never performed miracles.

  He’d heard rumors of such a gift before. Whether the healing touch came from God or the devil, he couldn’t say. But he knew what he’d claim. Having the power of God on his side would change everything.

  Controlling such a man would clear the path for all of James’s plans. People would come from near and far to see the healing knight. To be touched by him. If that knight declared who should rule Scotland, even the King of England would believe him. And James would control him.

  He nearly chuckled with glee.

  If Monroe spoke the truth and Sir Hugh could truly heal.

  While he didn’t trust his steward anymore than he trusted any of his men, he was willing to listen. Even better, he was willing to watch a demonstration of the knight’s skills.

  How Monroe intended to make that happen would be interesting as well.

  Yet as time marched past with no sign of Monroe, James’s impatience grew. At last, he opened the chamber door, catching a passing maidservant. “Where is Monroe?”

  “I haven’t seen him, my lord. I will ask if anyone else has.”

  James was not used to being kept waiting, nor did he appreciate it.

  Monroe finally arrived, his face flushed as he rushed through the open door of the solar. “My apologies, my lord, but I—” He halted as Sir Hugh and his wife arrived.

  The knight glanced about the chamber as though expecting someone else, his expression grim.

  “Let us get on with this,” James said impatiently. “I have other matters requiring my attention.” Though none nearly as interesting.

  “I—I fear I’ve encountered a pr—problem,” Monroe stammered.

  “Where’s Alec?” Lady Cairstine demanded, her gaze searching the chamber as well.

  James frowned. “Who is Alec?”

  “Their squire,” Monroe said. “He...suffered a broken arm this morn. Sir Hugh was going to demonstrate his unusual gift on the lad for us.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sir Hugh frowned at Monroe as though he’d lost his mind. “You said the boy would be here. We’ve come to collect him as we’re ready to leave. Where is he?”

  “Monroe, what is going on?”

  Monroe turned to face James, his expression desperate. “Unfortunately, the lad has disappeared and along with him, the chance to demonstrate the knight’s skill.”

  Hugh and his wife shared an odd look at Monroe’s words.

  “But know that Sir Hugh lies. He’s a healer. He healed her.” The steward raised a trembling finger to point at Lady Cairstine.

  “You must admit you had a remarkable recovery,” James said as he studied the lady, unwilling to allow this opportunity to slip through his fingers.

  She shook her head, a frown creasing her brow. “’Tis true that I fell from the stairs, as you may have heard, but I only fell a few steps. There was no injury to heal.”

  “Is that why you called us here?” Sir Hugh asked. “Because you thought I had such a talent?” He smiled. “Such an ability would be a blessing, but alas ’tis not mine. Now then, you told me my squire would be here, and we need his assistance to finish packing. We have a long way to travel. Where is he?”

  “Monroe, what is this about?” James didn’t know who to believe. Though Monroe’s story of the healing touch seemed ridiculous, why would the steward claim such a feat if it weren’t true?

  “I—I promise you, my lord, Sir Hugh can heal. ’Tis the only explanation.” Monroe glanced back to the couple then to James, eyes wild. “I swear on my life. I’ll prove it to you.” He rushed toward the lady, reaching for her.

  Sir Hugh moved to stand in front of her. “Do not dare touch
her.”

  Monroe jerked back. “You will heal her again.” He turned to face James, drawing his knife. “I’ll cut her, and he’ll show you. I’m certain his gift works on more than broken bones.”

  “Monroe,” James began, alarmed at his obvious intent.

  Sir Hugh grabbed Monroe’s wrist, squeezing until he cried out in pain and the blade clattered to the stone floor. “You will not touch her. Do I make myself clear?” The knight twisted Monroe’s arm until the man whimpered in protest. “I don’t know what all this is about, but I will not stand for it.”

  “You don’t understand,” Monroe pleaded with the knight, his determination evident despite his pain. “You and Lord Graham together could unite Scotland. Don’t you see?”

  James wondered if his steward had lost his grip on reality. The situation was growing increasingly crazed by the moment—all because of Monroe’s odd behavior.

  Sir Hugh shook his head, shoving aside the steward before looking at James. “Surely you don’t believe such things are possible?”

  “My steward certainly thinks so.” The incredulous look on the knight’s face only made James doubt Monroe more.

  “You’re certain you don’t know where my squire is?” he asked Monroe, his glare heated.

  Monroe only shook his head, his expression fearful.

  “Then we’ll be leaving now,” Sir Hugh said as he reached for his wife’s hand. “Our thanks for your hospitality, my lord.”

  James hesitated, wondering who told the truth and whether he should allow Hugh to leave. If Monroe was right and able to convince James, then he could locate Hugh later and force the knight to join him.

  If Monroe was wrong and James imprisoned Sir Hugh and his wife with no cause, the consequences could be dire. He needed his reputation to remain unblemished with all he had planned. Why take such a risk?