by Laura Landon
Katherine felt as if his admission were a knife plunged into her heart. She’d known the reasons he’d married her from the start, but had hoped that time and what they’d shared would have changed the facts. They hadn’t. “Is there any hope for us, Duncan?”
“Our future lies in your hands, wife.”
“I must be the one who yields?”
“You must give me the crown.”
“Or you will take it from me?”
“Nay, wife. I will na have to take it. If you care for me at all, you will give it to me.”
“And if I do not?”
“Then we have na marriage. You will have taken from me all that is important.”
“The English will always fight to get back their crown and no Scot will be safe until they do.”
“No Scot is safe now, nor have they been since the beginning of time.”
“But do you not want to see this change? Do you not want to be the Scot responsible for the beginning of peace?”
“I do na want to be the Scot responsible for my father’s tarnished name. I do na want my father to have died for naught. I do na want to give back the crown, knowing my mother and sisters gave their lives to protect it.”
Katherine hugged her arms around her middle and rocked back and forth on the bed. All was lost.
Her whole life she’d been a disappointment to her father. She’d heard it in the tone of his voice and seen it in the look on his face. She’d prayed she would never see that same look on her husband’s face, but she was seeing it now. Every day she didn’t give him the crown, she became a bigger disappointment to him. In time, there would be nothing more he would want from her.
She thought of her arranged marriage to Bolton and shuddered. Her future with him would have been a living hell. That’s why she had clung to Duncan. She’d felt safe with him. He had the strength to protect her and the weakness to want to. She’d felt it when she’d kissed him that first time.
He also possessed the power to destroy her.
This was why she had made the promise to never love him. A promise she had not kept.
She sat on the edge of the bed and fought the urge to run to him. She held back for a very good reason. She didn’t trust that he would want to touch her.
“Do what you must soon, Kate. We have almost run out of time.”
A tiny little gasp came from deep inside her, a soft whimper of anguish. Heaven help her. She was bound by a vow that left her no choice. To turn her back on her faith and go against the oath she’d given God would destroy her.
“Help me, Dun—”
“Duncan!”
Malcolm’s loud pounding stopped her in mid sentence. For a moment she thought she saw Duncan soften, but before she could be sure, Malcolm threw open the door and rushed across the room.
“Downstairs, Duncan. A messenger from Bolton.”
Duncan turned to her. The look in his eyes was hard, almost deadly. “Go to our chamber, Kate. Stay there until I come for you.”
Katherine stood and swallowed past the lump in her throat. “But I—”
“Do na argue, lass.” Duncan reached for her hand. “I will come for you when it’s safe.”
He lifted his other hand as if he wanted to caress her face, but dropped it back to his side before his flesh touched hers, then turned away and left the room.
Her heart pounded in her breast and she feared it would explode. As soon as the door closed behind him, Katherine rushed across the room pushing on one stone after another, frantic in her search for the secret passageway.
She must get to the crown. If need be, she would at least have what Bolton wanted in exchange for Duncan’s life and the safety of his people.
…
Duncan stared at the man standing before the hearth warming his hands, then let his gaze study the small army of Englishmen that flanked their leader. Every nerve in his body snapped in warning, yet he wasn’t sure why. When he first looked at the strange little man, his initial impulse was to laugh.
The Englishman’s shoulders were hardly as broad as Kate’s and his bright red hair stood away from his head like it had been groomed by a blind person with a very dull knife.
He wore a short tunic the same color as the pea soup Margaret had served last night for their evening meal, and his hose were identical to the bright yellow ribbon Kate had tied in her hair. He presented a very humorous sight — until he turned around.
The smile formed by his straight thin lips curved into a deadly sneer, and his pale blue eyes bulged from their sockets, glaring in open disdain. He stared at Duncan for a long moment then threw back his head and snorted. It was impossible to miss the derisive tone in his laughter.
“Good God. You are even bigger than the Scots I’ve already met. I doubted my cousin William’s accuracy when he told me you Fergusons had been spawned by giants, but I see he was not exaggerating.” The smirk on his face broadened.
Duncan took slow, deliberate steps toward the man until he stood close enough to see every pox mark on his face. Malcolm and Angus plus a score more of Ferguson warriors stood against the walls. Each rested one hand on the hilt of their swords and the other on the small knife tucked into a sheath at their waist. “You do na fear these Scottish giants?” Duncan asked, clasping his hands behind his back.
The messenger laughed again while he lifted the many gold chains from around his neck and let them sift through his fingers. “Strength is not always determined by size, my lord. I have listened to the tales of your bravery in battle and I do not think you the fool William does. You will not kill me and risk having the English army destroy every Ferguson from the face of the earth.”
Duncan concentrated on keeping his breathing even. “Do na ever assume you know what I will do, English. It could be the last mistake you make.”
“It’s you who have made the mistake, Ferguson. It was very foolish of you to refuse to hand over the Bishop’s Crown. You made an even greater mistake when you kidnapped my cousin’s betrothed.”
The pompous Englishman then clasped his hands behind his back and paced before the hearth as if he were lord of the manor. As if he were the one in control of the situation. Duncan felt heated anger tighten the muscles in his chest. “Why has Bolton sent you?”
“I’ve come to arrange an exchange. You will give me the crown and Lady Katherine, and I will assure the safety of your clan from the English.”
“The crown and Lady Katherine? She is that important to him?”
The little man paced before him, stopping only to study Duncan with a taunting sneer on his face. “Do you know who you’ve taken, Scot?” He chuckled as if he alone knew the answer to a great secret. “Lady Katherine is the daughter of the Earl of Wentworth, the chief advisor to King Edward of England. The king does not make a move without first consulting the earl. Wentworth is so powerful, it’s almost more important to gain an audience with him than with the king himself.”
Duncan raised his eyebrows as if he were duly impressed and the little man puffed out his chest and continued his pompous effusion. “You should realize what you’ve done, Scot. My cousin intends to have Wentworth’s daughter for his bride. Marriage to her will gain my cousin a seat close to the king. If you’re not a fool, you’ll give over the crown and the Lady Katherine, and we will consider this matter settled.”
“And if I do na?”
“Then you and every Ferguson man, woman and child will die.”
Duncan stared at Bolton’s cousin and held his tongue as well as his temper. What he wanted to do was give the little weasel to his warriors for target practice, then send him back to Bolton in pieces. But he could not. Bolton could carry out his threat, and to mistreat his little puppet would only cause the Fergusons more harm.
“What about the deaths your cousin has already caused?”
“Those were the unfortunate casualties of war.”
“Those were the senseless killings of innocent people, and your cousin is to blame. The
matter will na be settled until William Bolton is dead.”
The small Englishman’s eyes sparkled with humor. “That’s too bad. I’ve come to tell you that my cousin and a very large army of King Edward’s finest warriors are camped just beyond your border. You have three days to return the crown and Lady Katherine. If you do not obey William’s directives, you can watch the slaughter begin as William annihilates every Ferguson in Scotland.”
Duncan stared at the little man as if he were giving much thought to his demands. “I do na think I would like to hand over the Lady Katherine. I have grown quite fond of her, and would sorely miss her company.”
A deep red coloring started beneath the little man’s collar and slowly crept up his neck, then to his cheeks. “I demand that Lady Katherine be allowed to return with me or the slaughter will begin this very day. We have an army so large—”
In a movement so quick Bolton’s messenger didn’t see it coming, Duncan picked the man up by his tunic and shoved him hard against the wall.
The English warriors lifted their arms to draw their swords but Duncan heard the loud swish of Scottish swords being drawn at the same time. Both sides stared at each other in stalemate, waiting to see what would happen to their leaders.
“And I demand that you get your lying carcass back to your cousin and tell him I know exactly where he is camped. I can also tell him what he had for his meal last night and which squire he took to his bed. He has no bigger an army than his own men and is hoping the Earl of Wentworth cares enough for his daughter to come after her with a sizable army to aid him.”
The roots of the Englishman’s red hair turned three shades darker and Duncan swore he could feel him tremble as he dangled his feet off the floor. “You can also tell your cousin if he dares to attack my keep, he will never see Lady Katherine again. If the weaklings that are with him are your king’s warriors, then tell them to prepare to die, because if one Ferguson comes to harm, I will come after him. My sword will na rest until I have collected the head of every man riding with him.”
With that, Duncan dropped the little man to the floor and watched him splash around until he gained his footing.
“You will regret this, Ferguson,” he sputtered, tugging at his tunic and straightening his clothing. “You will regret this.”
“All I regret is that I had na yet returned when your cousin came the first time and slaughtered my family. If I had been here that day, he would na be alive now to make such idle threats.”
“You will wish you had never laid a hand on the crown or William’s betrothed. Lady Katherine’s father is on his way, and when he arrives he will storm your castle and rescue his daughter.”
“I look forward to meeting Lady Katherine’s father. Tell him he is welcome at Lochmore Castle the moment he arrives.”
Bolton’s cousin turned a deeper shade of red and stomped his foot on the floor in a show of uncontrolled temper. “William will not give up until he gets his betrothed.”
“You forgot the crown, little man. Does he na want the crown too?”
“Yes. Of course. But Lady Katherine is just as important to him. Her father is the earl.”
Duncan fisted his hands at his side and turned away from the disgusting little man. “Go back to your cousin and tell him he has three days to get out of Scotland. If he is na gone by then, I will gather every Ferguson and neighboring clansmen and we will na return until you are all dead.”
“You cannot—”
“Get out, Englishman, and be glad you’re leaving alive.”
The little man sputtered again, then spun on his heel and stomped from the room, his little army behind him. Duncan waited until he heard the door slam before he took his next breath. “Gregor. Take Balfour with you and make sure he reaches Bolton unharmed. I would hate to have one of our men confuse him with a peacock and kill him before he reaches his cousin.”
Duncan waited until he and Malcolm and Angus were alone, then sat in his chair at the long table and rubbed his hands against the throbbing pain at his temple. “What have the men watching Bolton reported today?”
Gregor filled a cup with ale and slid it across the table then filled one for himself and Angus. “Timothy rode in shortly before the English to tell us Bolton is still alone. His army is nay large enough to attack with any success. Bolton is still waiting for Lady Katherine’s father. They send scouts every few hours to check. So far, they’ve come back alone.”
Duncan took a long swallow of ale. “If I did na think it would cause a war with Kate’s father, I would attack today.”
Malcolm sat straight in his seat and propped his elbows on the table. “Nay, Duncan. It’s too risky.”
Duncan clenched his hand around the goblet. “Three days. I’ll give Bolton three days. Na longer.”
Both men nodded in agreement, then Angus leaned forward and said out loud what Duncan had only been thinking. “Bolton does na know that Lady Katherine is your wife. What happens when he and the earl find out you’ve married her?”
Duncan took another swallow of ale, then shoved back his chair and stood. “See that the men get in a couple more hours of training before the sun sets. I need to speak to Kate, then I will be out to train with you.”
Angus stood with him. “You need the crown, lad.”
Malcolm leaned back in his chair and nodded in agreement. “It’s important that we have the crown before the English come.”
Duncan kicked his chair with his boot, then strode out of the room and took the stairs two steps at a time until he reached their chamber. He pushed the door open and kicked it shut after its second bounce against the wall. “I will have the crown, Kate!”
His wife slowly turned and their gazes locked. She knew what the crown meant to him and to Scotland. She knew that his father had died to keep the crown. She knew she would destroy any chance they had for a future together if she refused to give it to him.
His heart fell to the pit of his stomach. He could see from the look on her face she was willing to forfeit everything for England.
Chapter 16
Fire blazed in Duncan’s eyes and Katherine fought the turmoil that battled within her. A shiver raced down her spine as she watched her husband struggle to control his temper.
With a strangled sigh he walked to the arrow slit and leaned a fisted hand beside the window that looked onto the bailey below. The concentrated sounds of Ferguson warriors training for their battle with the English intruded on the tension-filled silence that surrounded them.
“I wonder how many of my men will na live to see the sun set three days from now?”
The breath caught in Katherine’s throat.
“Do you know what I like the least about being laird, Kate? I dislike the most when I have to bring back the dead body of a friend and have to tell their family I failed to keep their loved one safe. It’s only because I know they died with honor in their fight to protect Scotland that I can sleep at night.”
Duncan turned away from the window and leveled his hooded glare at her. “If England gets back her crown, all who died protecting it will have died for naught. My father will have died for naught. If I let you give the crown to England, I will have betrayed my father’s honor and have failed Scotland.”
Katherine’s voice cracked as she found the courage to say the words that would seal their fate. “I cannot give you the crown.”
Duncan grabbed a clay pitcher sitting beside him and heaved it through the air. It shattered against the wall behind her and broke into tiny pieces that prickled against her skin when they hit.
“How can you na see your way to give me the crown? You’re my wife! Have you na come to see what it means to me?”
“Please, don’t ask, husband. The choice is not mine to make. It never has been.”
He reached out for her and grabbed her by the arms. “Then whose? Whose choice is it to na give me the crown? England’s? Is England still that important to you?”
She saw the desperation i
n his eyes. Heard it in his voice. He was frantic to have the crown but didn’t know how to get it from her. “It’s not England. I do not favor England any more than I favor Scotland. I took an oath before God. I cannot break it.”
“What oath?”
“The oath I gave to your priest the night he died. I promised to protect the crown.”
“You have protected the crown, wife. There’s nothing more you can do.”
“That was not all I promised. I placed my hand on your priest’s bible and swore I would give the crown to only one man. I swore it.”
“Which man? To whom did you swear you would give the crown?”
Duncan’s grip on her arms tightened and her breathing came in harsh, agonizing gasps.
“Who?”
“My father.”
The muscles in Duncan’s jaw tightened and the fury in his voice evidenced his rage. “No! Our priest would na make you swear to give the crown back to England. He would na!”
“He did. The priest sent by your father made me swear I would give the crown to England or lose my soul.”
Duncan dropped his hands from around her arms and Katherine slumped to the floor. “I swore to God, Duncan.” One sob after another racked her body as she gasped for air. “Your Father Kincaid held my hand on his bible and made me swear to God that I would give the crown to only one man. My father, the Earl of Wentworth.”
“Why? Why would he do such a thing?”
“I don’t know. Maybe peace was that important to him. He knew if Scotland kept the crown, there would be war. Maybe it was because he didn’t want to see innocent people die for a crown that did not belong to them.
Katherine took a deep breath and said what she hoped Duncan could accept as the reason. “Maybe it was because your father gave your priest the order.”
“Never! My father died to keep the crown from England. He would not tell our priest to give it back to them.”
“Perhaps your father did not die protecting the crown from England. Perhaps he died keeping it from Bolton.”
“It’s the same.”
“It is not! Bolton is evil and would use the crown for evil. My father will return it where it belongs.”
