“That is a blessing indeed. Thank you, Fayre,” he said. “You are wiser than most learned men. I would be honored if you would read to me.”
As Fayre’s gentle lilt passed over the familiar words, Kenneth prayed for himself but said an especially fervent prayer for her.
Chapter 6
The rosebush has many blooms,” Kenneth said weeks later as they inspected the flowers in the garden.
“Aye. Norman took good care of them while I tended tae ye,” Fayre agreed. “And they have flourished under my continued care, if ye dinna think me too vain tae admit.”
“You are never vain.” He observed the bright orange blooms and then looked into her eyes. “They are beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as you.”
Fayre felt herself blush. “Are ye delirious once again? Shall I return ye tae yer sickbed?”
“Never.” He shuddered. “I have better plans for my future. Now that I have a future, thanks to you.”
“Dinna give me such honor. ’Tis the heavenly Father who saw fit tae save ye.”
“Your humility is charming in its sincerity.” Kenneth took her hands in his. She liked the feel of his fingers wrapping themselves around hers in such a protective manner. “Fayre.” His voice was almost a whisper. “I have a question to ask.”
The way his voice dropped in pitch on the last word indicated he had turned serious. Her heart began thumping. “Aye?”
“Though I have never given voice to my feelings, surely you know by now how much I love you.”
“Dinna say such a thing. I ken ye believe what ye say, but we have just seen the miracle of healing together. Ye were close to death, and our Creator breathed fresh life into ye with His ain breath. I believe that with all my heart.”
“But you prayed for me.”
“Aye.” She averted her gaze to the roses, although the blooms no longer held any interest for her. “I ken yer love is felt only out of gratitude.”
“Nay, ’tis not.” With a gentle touch, he took her chin in his strong hand and tilted her face toward his. “My love for you is strong, Fayre. Stronger than any I have ever felt.”
His cloaked reference to another stirred an unwelcome memory in Fayre’s mind. “Even for Lady Letha?”
He jerked his head slightly, as if she had slapped him across the face. “Lady Letha?”
“Aye.” She looked down at her feet, now shod in kid leather. “Dinna ye want me to grow the roses for her?”
His mouth dropped open. “For that foolish and idle woman?” Kenneth threw back his head and laughed. “Is that what you thought?”
Surprised by his reaction, she looked back up at him. “Aye. Yer knights said so on that first day ye brought me here.”
“Did they now?” He chuckled. “Why did you let a little bit of jesting toward me throw you into such speculation? Nay, a match between the lady and me is but wishful thinking by my vassals, who value outward beauty far more than a lovely spirit. A marriage to her would add to my earthly riches but leave me hungry for spiritual food. Nay, such a woman will not suit. I am a free man, unwilling to tether myself to any but the finest woman.” He looked her squarely in the eye. “No matter if she must barter a rosebush for her father’s freedom.”
The gravity of what he proposed struck her. “And if we were tae wed, I would be free.”
“Aye.”
“I could be marrying ye just tae gain my freedom,” she challenged, although she knew her tone and expression indicated the opposite was true.
“I shall know you are not because your freedom does not depend on our marriage,” he said. “Fayre, I grant you freedom now, whether or not we marry.”
She gasped. “Truly?”
“Aye.”
“Then I shall return the favor by releasing ye from any sense of gratitude. Ye need not marry me. By yer leave I shall take my freedom and depart.” She curtsied.
Kenneth did not answer right away. He knew he had not asked her hand only out of gratitude for her devotion to him during his illness. Yet if she believed as much, he could only set her free. “Why, aye, you may depart,” he managed. “I shall instruct Walter to escort you home.”
“Thank ye, Kenneth,” she said as she curtsied again. “I shall always be grateful tae ye.”
Before he could answer, she ran back to the castle. She was free! She was going home!
Kenneth’s countenance fell and his feet felt heavy in his boots. Fayre had run away from him. Was his company so horrible that she could no longer endure him? Had she been patient with him as a nursemaid during his sickness, praying for him to recover only so she could leave his presence?
Father in heaven, did I misread her? Was our time together of no more significance than that of a laird and a faithful servant?
Kenneth felt no sense of peace after his prayer. But he knew there would be even less serenity in his heart if he insisted on a wedding to a woman who ran from him.
He looked at the rosebush once more. Seeing the flowers brought rage to his being. Kenneth couldn’t remember a time he wished he could tear an innocent plant from the ground by its roots and destroy it with his bare hands.
Resisting the urge, he turned away and headed toward his bedchamber intent on retiring early. To keep his promise, he was obligated to instruct Walter to escort Fayre home. Walter was the only knight that Kenneth wished to see. He was too proud to face anyone else in the moment of his darkest defeat.
Several hours later, Fayre and Walter approached the mean hut. Her heart pounded with joy. To see her father again! How many times had she thought about him and petitioned God for his continued health and well-being? Finally, she would look upon his face and hear his voice again.
Walter had barely stopped his horse when she jumped off, thanked the knight, and ran into the cottage. “Father! Father!”
“Fayre!” Witta rose from the small table where he was eating bread and vegetable soup and hurried to greet her. “My lassie! I ne’er thought I’d lay eyes on ye again.” He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her in a loving embrace. “This can only mean the roses bloomed, eh?”
“Aye, and Kenneth granted me freedom! I am free! Our debt has been paid.” She stretched out her arms as though she could fly.
“Free! It canna be!”
“But ’tis!”
“Then we dinna pay rent t’ the laird any longer.” Witta’s smile faded, and he furrowed his brows. “Free or not, ye maun call the laird by his title.”
Fayre glanced at her feet in embarrassment, which only caused her father to look at them as well.
“Shoes!”
“Aye. A gift from the laird.” She returned her gaze to his face. “I tended tae the laird when no one else would. He told me tae call him by his Christian name. I ken ’tis a privilege.”
“A privilege!” Fear and suspicion entered his eyes. “What other liberties did he try to take?”
“None. I promise.”
“Are ye sure, my lassie?”
She decided to omit the incident with Ulf. Why anger Father with a story about how she hadn’t been entirely safe during her stay?
“Aye, Father,” she responded. “Kenneth never touched me except to take my hands in his upon occasion.” The memory of his strong hands holding her smaller ones sent a feeling of warmth through her body. She would miss such gestures, their conversations, and the life they shared however briefly. She couldn’t think of that now. She was home.
“What, then?” he prodded. “Every gift from a man bears a price.”
“A price! Many women would be happy tae pay such a price as he asked.” She paused. “He asked me tae marry him.”
“Marry him!” Witta chortled and slapped his knee with an energy she had no idea he could summon. “ ’Tis no need tae jest with me, though the laugh has done me good, it has.”
“ ’Tis nae jest. He asked me tae marry him.”
“ ’Tis no jest?” He scratched his balding head, then smiled. “ ’Tis no jest! My bonn
y lassie, ’tis a dream come true! And ye have come here tae take me to Kennerith Castle.”
Fayre shook her head.
The happiness drained from Witta’s face. “I see. ’Tisn’t fitting for a lowly man like me tae be present at such a time.”
She put her hands on his shoulders. “Nay! I told Kenneth I wouldna marry him.”
“What? You denied him?” Witta’s eyes widened. “And ye live tae tell the tale?”
“I dinna wish for a marriage based on gratitude alone. His gratitude, Father. I ken I do love him.”
In Kenneth’s eyes, the castle seemed desolate since Fayre’s departure. Its dreary stone ramparts seemed even darker on this day. Walter had returned without Fayre, unable to convince her to change her mind. How could she think that Kenneth had wanted her only out of appreciation for what she had done, however brave and good? Naturally, he felt grateful. But never would he propose marriage to any woman on such a weak foundation.
He loved her well beyond gratitude. How could he make her see? Desperately he wanted to chase after her, to make Dazzle gallop to the little hut she and her father shared. But when he asked the Lord for permission, he did not receive the Savior’s leave. He would have to wait.
Father in heaven, what is Thy will for me? Surely the feelings I have must be love. But I wish not to marry her without Thy leading. I pray it is Thy will to send her back.
A month later, Fayre was silent as she brought the day’s milk into the hut. She set the worn wooden bucket on the table. “Care for a bit of warm milk, Father?”
“Nay, ’tis better tae save all we can for the cheese.”
“The cheese.” Fayre sighed.
“What’s the matter? Ye ne’er minded making cheese before. Why do ye mope aboot, lassie?” her father asked. “Ye seem more enslaved than e’er, instead of the free lass ye are.”
“Aye, but I dinna feel free.”
“I ken. ’Tis love that enslaves ye, ’tis. Love that ye canna live the way God intended, as a man and wife should. Yer sitting here, all silent and miserable. That’s nae way to be.” He finished stoking the fire and came closer, then took her hands in his. “I remember how much I loved yer dear mother. I’m sure your laird is just as unhappy as ye, all alone as he is in that big castle.”
His words brought a smile to her lips. “You dinna believe he proposed only oot of gratitude?”
“No man in his position would ask ye tae marry him out of thankfulness alone. Yer freedom would have been enough if that’s all he felt. Nay, my lassie, he loves ye. And ye love him. Why dinna ye accept his proposal, Fayre?”
She looked around the hut. “But ye would be alone.”
“I’ve been alone before, and I can be alone once more. ’Tis better for an old man set in his ways, anyhoo.” He surveyed the tiny cottage. “This little cottage is all I’ve e’er kent, and I’m right fond of it. It’s always been my life, and ’tis my life the noo. I know it was once all ye kent, but noo, there’s nothing here for ye.”
Fayre swallowed. If only he didn’t speak the truth!
“Go,” Father prodded. “I beg ye.”
“Oh Father.” She hugged him around the neck. “Yer guidance is what I’ve been praying for all these weeks. Now I know I ha’e release t’ return tae Kennerith Castle.”
When she broke the embrace, she saw tears in her father’s eyes.
“There we go, Dazzle. Good boy.” Kenneth stroked the horse’s neck. “Time to survey my properties toward Loch Tay.” Despite his cheerful demeanor, he’d been dreading this day for weeks. He desperately wanted to visit Witta’s hut, but should he? Could he?
No. Fayre had fled at the prospect of wedding him. All was lost.
Kenneth and two vassals exited the courtyard, crossing the drawbridge that kept them safely out of the moat. The day promised to be long and hard.
They had only traveled a mile or so when in the distance, he heard horses’ hooves clomping on the crude path ahead. “Halt,” Kenneth instructed his vassals. “Let us wait and see who approaches.” He stiffened, ready to draw his lance for battle.
When he recognized the coal black steed favored by Sir Rolfe, tensions eased. His knight and the two others who were with him, approached.
“A profitable day at the marketplace, I presume?” Kenneth asked.
“Aye.” Rolfe’s smile told him that he had a surprise that would please Kenneth.
“Good bargains, eh?” he guessed. “You always were good at bartering.”
“Better than that. I found quite a prize.” Rolfe tilted his head toward the last knight. At that moment, Kenneth realized that a woman rode with him. The last knight disembarked and assisted her.
Fayre!
He drew a sharp breath and leapt off Dazzle. “Fayre?”
The maiden he had come to love ran toward him. “ ’Tis I!”
“You have returned!” He wanted to take her in his arms with more passion than he had ever displayed, but he hesitated. If he was mistaken, if she hadn’t returned to accept his proposal but for some other reason, to greet her as a lover would make him appear foolish.
“Have I waited too long?” she asked.
He noticed that she trembled slightly. “Too long?”
She opened her lips to speak, but then seemed to remember that their actions were being witnessed by five knights.
“ ‘Never’ would be too long.” Kenneth extended his hand. “Lead on, my faithful men. Your lady has my favor. To Kennerith in haste that this joy may be welcomed to all within and beyond.”
Despite the rapture she felt at riding upon Dazzle with Kenneth once again, Fayre quivered in anticipation and dread as they approached Kennerith Castle. What would he do once they were inside the castle?
The courtyard they entered was now familiar. Memories of her first encounter with the castle flashed through her mind. The circumstances were so different, yet the stakes were equally high. Perhaps even higher.
Kenneth helped her from the horse. “Are you in need of sustenance?” he asked as her feet touched the ground.
Fayre couldn’t have eaten had her life depended upon it. “Nay.”
“I wonder why you do not waste away to nothing,” Kenneth teased. He snapped his fingers at a nearby squire. “Tell Cook I want the midday meal served to Fayre and myself in my private quarters.”
“Aye.”
“And have her send plenty of fruit tarts.” Kenneth smiled at Fayre. “Before we retire to dinner, I want to show you something.”
He walked in the direction of the garden.
My roses!
The brilliant blooms shone from the entryway. Sunlight filtered through the clouds above. Fayre quickened her pace so she could examine them more closely. As soon as she neared the bush, she touched one of the rose petals. “These blooms are beautiful! Even more beautiful than before.” She turned to Kenneth and saw that he wore a pleased expression. “The king will love them.”
“Aye. But I care less about what the king thinks of them than what you think. I am glad to see you are delighted with the care they have received in your absence.” He motioned his hand toward the bush. “Go ahead. Pick one for yourself. Such a bloom would look pretty in your hair.”
Fayre hesitated.
Not one to wait, Kenneth plucked the largest bloom and placed it over her ear.
Just the simple movement bringing him in such close proximity to her filled her with anticipation about the future.
Kenneth escorted Fayre to a small sitting room within his residence. When they entered, she knew she was home.
The fire was lit, and this time Kenneth suggested with a wave of his hand that she take the seat opposite his. She obeyed, though she was unaccustomed to the pillowed bench. She noticed that Kenneth shifted forward in his seat.
“So,” he said, his voice a wee bit too cheerful, “Rolfe found you in the marketplace?”
“Aye. Father and I searched until we found one of yer knights.” She hesitated.
“You did?” He leaned toward her, his eyes bright.
“Aye. I–I wanted to return.” She peered at the stone floor and studied it to avoid his inquisitive gaze. Fayre couldn’t bring herself to look him squarely in the eye. Not yet. “I hope my return doesna distress ye.”
“Nay,” he whispered.
The one word gave her courage to look at him. “I am here for a reason.” Not knowing what else to do, Fayre stood and then curtsied so low that her nose nearly touched the floor. “If I am not too late …” She lifted her eyes toward his face. “I would be honored to accept yer proposal of marriage.”
Her legs quivered and her heart beat wildly. What if she was too late? What if he had already found a lady? Or worse, become betrothed in her absence?
No, she would have heard.
“Fayre?” he said. “Why do you not answer? Can you not understand what I say?”
She had been so busy thinking terrible thoughts that he might not want her anymore, she must not have heard him nor noticed that he was standing before her. Suddenly unable to utter another word, Fayre managed to shake her head.
He took her hand and guided her to her feet. “Aye, I still want to marry you. This castle is nothing but a shell without your shining presence. I am the one who would be honored for you to be my wife.”
As Kenneth entwined her in his strong arms, Fayre looked into his handsome face and saw that his lips were nearing her own. Again she quivered, but not with dread. Rather than the fright she had felt with Ulf, she welcomed her first kiss—a kiss from the man she had grown to love.
As his warm mouth touched hers, the heat of love filled her. At that moment, she realized that her sacrifice, which now seemed so small, had given her rewards beyond her most treasured hopes and dreams.
FRESH HIGHLAND HEIR
by Jill Stengl
British Brides Collection Page 44
