Enchanted with the little mite, he placed his lips on her soft neck and blew air against it, creating a sound he hadn’t heard since he’d played with Adam and Adam’s cousins years ago. And just as they’d found the noise outrageously funny, Isobel giggled and squirmed. He did it again and peals of laughter filled the room, some of it his own.
With a grin he walked the child about the room, talking in a low voice and now and then blowing upon her skin to the delight of them both.
KATHRYN STARED IN RAPT AMAZEMENT as the fearsome knight made loud, wet noises against her daughter’s skin. Both child and man seemed delighted with the effect, and Bryan laughed aloud. Kathryn stood spellbound by the sight and the sound of the huge warrior and the tiny girl laughing together. Nay, giggling together.
He walked about the room, carrying Isobel as gently as she’d seen him pet Maggie the dog, and crooning as he’d done with his horse.
Gradually, the exhausted child’s head began to nod, and Kathryn walked to him. “Shall I take her?” she whispered.
“No, let her rest.” He continued to pace quietly back and forth until Isobel was quite asleep.
At his silent, questioning nod, she showed him to the girl’s bed. He gently laid the sleeping child there, then pulled the covers over her. Kathryn watched as he looked upon the tiny sleeping form. Then as if nothing unusual had taken place—as if this were a normal nightly ritual—he looked at Kathryn with his usual mask and said, “Good night, my lady,” and strolled from the nursery.
Kathryn sat in a chair by Isobel’s bed and gently stroked the wisps of fair hair from her face. Seeing her husband and daughter together had done something strange to her heart. She fell a little in love with the Black Knight as he cradled her sleeping child.
Assured that the babe slept peacefully, she left for her own chamber to prepare for bed. She would return to spend the night in Isobel’s room.
In her chamber, Kathryn began to undress in anticipation of washing off the day’s dust. But the basin and jug were empty of water. Tired as she was, it was tempting to just ignore the grime and the smell of horse. But she knew she would sleep better if she felt refreshed.
Perturbed with the servant who’d failed to see to this chore, she considered waking the thoughtless girl and making her fetch it. But that would take longer than just doing it herself, so with a sigh, she picked up the jug and headed down the steps. She would have words with her maid in the morning.
Thankful that Anna kept water in the kitchen so she didn’t have to trudge all the way to the well, Kathryn went to the large crock, filled the jug and headed back to her room. Halfway across the main hall she heard Isobel crying again and hurried up the steps. Isobel’s door was already open—Anna must have heard and come to calm the little one. But it wasn’t Anna bending over the bed and picking up the little girl. Bryan, shirt untucked and bootless, held her close as he crooned comforting words. Isobel quieted and snuggled into his strong arms.
Kathryn found herself wishing she could join her daughter in the safety of the knight’s embrace.
AS THE CHILD QUIETED, the sweet, innocent smell of her assailed Bryan and he breathed deep of it. For perhaps the first time, he held in his arms the very reason for his chosen profession of arms. To him God had given the gifts of physical strength and courage in battle in order to protect the innocent and the defenseless. Such as Isobel. And Kathryn.
Bryan walked with the child and thought about God’s plan for marriage. His mother’s lessons came back to him. She’d taught Bryan that man was ordained to seek a wife and to rule his family with God’s own love and devotion as his guide. God didn’t expect Bryan to be perfect, only to do his will the best he could. By loving as Christ loved.
And by denying his marriage, by not allowing his heart to be engaged, Bryan defied God. And he denied himself the sweetness and the comfort woman was ordained to give to man.
Why hadn’t Kathryn told him sooner of the child? But then why should she? When he’d offered her a chaste marriage and the promise to set her free, she had no need to explain her past.
Bryan stared down at Isobel, now sleeping in peace and safety in his arms. Who will love her if I don’t? Certainly not Rodney Carleton. His only interest would be Isobel’s usefulness in controlling Kathryn. And look at how Rodney had injured Fergus in a fit of temper. Thinking of Rodney and his seduction of an innocent maid, Bryan’s anger was redirected. Yes, Kathryn’s lack of honesty and her words had hurt. But that paled in comparison to what Rodney had done to her. Would still do if given the chance.
Bryan’s throat tightened and he prayed a fervent prayer, the first heartfelt prayer he could remember offering in many years. God, please let us be victorious at Stirling so this little one may live in peace. And if victory is not your will, help me to protect the ones I love.
KATHRYN WILLED HERSELF TO BE STILL in the doorway, drinking in the picture of the dark knight with his head bent over the golden-haired child in his arms. Isobel had quieted, yet he still held her. His back was to Kathryn, and she could only see the top of the child’s head as it lay supported in the crook of his arm. He stared into Isobel’s face and gently pushed back the wisps of hair much as she had done earlier.
The jug of water grew heavy, and when she moved into the room to set it down on the stand, he must have heard her, for he turned to face her. She stepped forward, hands outstretched. “I will take her, my laird. You must be tired.”
He seemed somewhat reluctant to give Isobel up. “And you also, Kathryn. Will you spend the night here with her?”
“Aye. I only left to fetch some water.”
He cleared his throat. “Kathryn.” Silence.
“Aye?”
“Perhaps I should lay her down.”
Kathryn smiled. “Of course.”
His expression held a softness she’d never seen before, and she didn’t want to take her gaze from his face. He placed Isobel in her bed once again and pulled the covers over her. Then he took Kathryn’s hand and drew her to the doorway.
Looking back at the small shape in the bed he said, “She’s a lovable mite.”
He looked away, as if the habit of guarding his heart was not easily abandoned, and she hardly knew how to answer him. But what she did know was that watching him this evening with Isobel had shown her clearly that the heart he guarded was full of love. The passions and vulnerability she’d guessed resided in him had made themselves visible. Here was a man worthy of love and loyalty. Her love and loyalty. But would he accept them?
Could they overcome the obstacles in their way—Rodney, her own deception, the looming threat of war?
“You needn’t fear for her, Kathryn. I will protect her.”
Relief and gratitude filled her. “Thank you, my laird.” She could rest easy now because she knew him to be a man of his word.
His mask returned, but seemed much less forbidding.
“Now pray I live long enough to keep that promise.”
THE NEXT MORNING Bryan and Thomas sat together breaking their fast. Bryan said, “We will leave for Stirling as soon as I can get the household organized for the trip. We should have been there a week ago.”
“Well, ye couldna go without the lassie, nor the supplies, now could ye? Stop fretting. The war will still be waiting for us when we get there.”
“I wish I could leave her and the child here.” His head spun with all the possible calamities that could befall one or both of them.
“So, yer taking the child too.”
“Aye. They won’t be safe here. I can’t spare the men to stay here when they are so badly needed elsewhere.”
And still he hadn’t told Kathryn of Homelea’s imminent destruction. Knowing it couldn’t be delayed any longer, Bryan excused himself from Thomas and sent for Kathryn to join him in the solar.
She entered the room with a smile. His decision to protect Isobel evidently pleased her. What he was about to tell her would not.
KATHRYN FELT HER SMILE FAD
E when she saw Sir Bryan’s grim visage. She had hoped that last night’s exchange would soften him, but apparently not. Disappointed, she took the chair he indicated and waited for whatever bad news he obviously wanted to tell her.
He stood before the fireplace, hands laced behind his back. “You must know that I carry out my liege laird’s wishes, no matter how I may feel about them. I do not disagree with his military tactics or solutions, even now.”
Bryan walked to her and stood before her chair, his expression controlled, his eyes filled with what she could only name as regret.
She nodded, afraid to speak.
“My king asks me to do something I have done before without hesitation.”
Kathryn was alarmed at his intensity and started to rise, but his hand upon her shoulder stayed her. “My laird, what troubles you?”
“Outside of Lothian, only one stronghold remains in English hands. Stirling.”
“Aye, the war goes well. What has this to do with us?” His unswerving gaze and troubled voice only increased her anxiety. And her worry for his well being. His request last night that she pray he would live to keep his promise of protection scared her. Although some of that fear was for her and Isobel, most of it was for him. She found herself becoming rather fond of him and hoped they would create a lasting marriage.
“You know that we must depart for Stirling?”
She came back to the conversation and nodded.
“And you know the fate of castles surrendered to Bruce?”
Of course she did but she repeated it nonetheless. “Once captured, they are razed to the ground.”
Bryan gazed steadily at her, acknowledging her words. Slowly the impossible dawned upon Kathryn. She jumped to her feet, nearly bumping into him in her haste. “Nay, my laird. Surely there is no need to destroy this castle. Homelea is yours now.” Her distress increased at his implacable expression. “You promised to protect me and mine.”
“And so I have. But from the start I told you Homelea belonged to Bruce, to do with as he sees fit.” His shoulders sagged, his remorse palpable. “I cannot garrison Homelea with enough men to protect the castle or its people. I have already given the order for preparations to be made—”
“How dare you?” Kathryn gave him no time to finish. “It isn’t necessary to raze my home, your home. I will not turn traitor. I won’t, I give my word.” Tears came easily as anger and anguish merged and she turned her back to him.
“Neither my king nor I think you will betray us, Kathryn.”
“How can he ask this of you?” she whispered.
“He doesn’t ask, he demands.” Bryan’s voice softened as he circled to stand in front of her. “Kathryn, you know of the army Edward is assembling. The fight for Stirling Castle will decide Scotland’s fate. And ours. We must sacrifice in order to weaken Edward’s forces on their march north. We must do all within our power to ensure Scotland’s victory and our freedom. Isobel’s freedom.”
She wiped her tears with the back of her hand. Knowing he was right didn’t alleviate her despair. “So that is why you agreed to accept Isobel? Knowing you must give me this news?” A heaviness settled around her heart. “Did you think I would be more forgiving when you tore down my home if you took in the child?”
“No! That had nothing to do with my decision concerning Isobel.”
“You should have told me.”
“Just as you should have told me about Isobel!”
She had the good grace to look abashed and yet she said, “I trusted you to keep Homelea from harm.”
He reached for her and she resisted, but he held fast. “And you can trust me still. The child is safe, is she not?”
Was that pleading she heard in his voice? “Aye, she’s safe.”
“Please Kathryn, let it go. Do not ruin what we have so painfully gained these past two days.”
She’d thought that yielding to Black Bryan had safeguarded her home. Maybe given time she would see this more clearly. He might be right. But his delay in telling her felt like a betrayal, and forgiveness dwelt a long way from her heart. Head bowed, she stepped around him and left the room.
BRYAN STARTED AFTER HER, the warrior in him ready to do battle. He halted in midstride, realizing confrontation was not the answer. He should have told her about Homelea’s fate right from the start. But she did not tell him of Isobel! Still . . .
He was at a loss to justify his actions to himself, let alone explain them to an angry, distressed woman. He watched her storm away, the stiffness of her shoulders telling him she would not listen did he try to explain. Bryan returned to the room and sank listlessly onto a bench.
He had razed many castles for Robert, had even known the occupants of some. But he dreaded what must be done this time, because this time his life would be disrupted. His home would lie in shambles, along with his marriage. A marriage with which he was fast becoming reconciled despite Kathryn’s not telling him of Rodney’s child.
Knowing Rodney as he did, it was easy to forgive the innocent girl Kathryn had once been for her transgression. Rodney’s fame for deception and treachery was as widespread as his success with the sword. What chance had the lass had with a man such as he?
Hadn’t Bryan avoided wedlock all these years to spare himself this kind of turmoil? Yet his weakness for Kathryn had tempted him beyond good judgment. Now, in withholding Robert’s order from Kathryn, he had damaged her fledgling trust in him, and he might not have the time to regain it.
He rose to his feet and began to pace the room. Why must he put country and king ahead of his wife? Would it never end, this denial of his needs and desires? When would he be allowed to sit quietly in the sunshine and enjoy life?
And love.
He stopped abruptly, brought up short by such a thought. Since when had his warrior’s heart come to desire a quiet spot in the sun? And love? Bryan shook himself. Love. The realization that he’d hoped to find affection in his marriage startled him. Had this hope always been there, or had it been born when he first took Kathryn in his arms?
He sat down, resting his hands on his knees. Kathryn, so beautiful, so vibrant and alive. Now they might never have the opportunity to deepen their feelings. His actions, his lack of honor in dealing with her—this is what lay between them. That and the looming battle with England. A battle that would seal the fate of Scotland as well as the fate of his marriage.
A knock on the door interrupted Bryan’s musings. Pushing himself to his feet, he set aside the weariness that threatened to overwhelm him and growled, “Come in.”
Adam stood in the doorway. “You ruin more than a fortress with this deed, is that not so?”
“Leave it, Adam,” he warned. “If this were any other castle, neither of us would question the necessity of destroying it before Edward arrives.” He stood, and placed his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I take no joy from carrying out this order. See to the packing and give what comfort you can. I will take care of the rest.”
“’Tis you who should give her comfort. She’s your wife.”
Bryan slammed his hand against the doorpost. “You think it necessary to remind me which of us is her husband?” He looked away, his anger receding as quickly as it had erupted. He bowed his head. “She won’t accept my solace nor anything else I offer. Now go, see she is ready to leave by the morrow.”
Adam looked at him for a moment as if he had more advice. But all he said was a quiet, “Aye, my laird.”
Adam was right. More than stone, wood, and possessions would be done away with the destruction of this castle, and Bryan’s heart twisted with the awareness of what Scotland’s freedom would cost him.
I should have kept my vow not to marry.
TWELVE
KATHRYN ENTERED HER CHAMBER and slammed the door. The impact caused the wooden bar to fall into place on its own accord, securing the door and insuring her privacy. She stalked to the bed and threw herself on it. The affection she’d thought was growing between them had b
een naught but a ruse to subdue her. And he claimed she had used their kiss, her offer to make their marriage real, to accomplish the same goal! What kind of man would do such a thing?
Even his agreement to protect Isobel was nothing more than appeasement, knowing he intended to raze Homelea.
He can’t be trusted. Not with her home, certainly not with her heart.
In a fit of pique she refused to pack a single thing. He must change his mind. She would wait here for his return from Stirling. He would leave a suitable number of men behind to guard their home. Then they could end this union and be done with each other. A knock on the door startled her, causing her heart to pound. Did he come to her already? She strode to the door as she composed her expression to erase any sign of her recent anger. When she opened the door, Anna entered the room carrying a saddlebag. “I am to help ye pack.”
Frowning, Kathryn watched Anna make her way to the trunks where her clothing was stored. “That won’t be necessary. We are not leaving, Anna.” At the sound of a footstep, Kathryn looked up, and Adam stood in the doorway. Hope filled her. Perhaps he had come to tell her of Sir Bryan’s change of heart.
“Gather your belongings and prepare for the journey.” His voice was kind, but he was as unyielding as the knight.
Disappointment flooded her. “Why, Adam? Can’t you make him see reason?”
“I’m sure Sir Bryan has already explained. He does what he must, my lady. For whatever else you may believe, he is a soldier, bound to his duty and his king.”
“But Homelea is his home now,” she whispered.
“Aye, and you can be sure this pains him, even if he doesn’t show it.”
“Why doesn’t he show it?” she said, allowing her frustration free rein.
“I cannot say.”
“Why do you defend him?”
“Because he is all that stands between you and Rodney Carleton. Because he will risk his life so that you might live under a Scottish government ruled by the king of our choice.”
In her heart she knew that Adam was right, that her sacrifice was small compared to the warriors who would face death or a maiming wound. Reluctantly she took the saddlebag from Anna but could not lift a hand to fill it.
The Price of Freedom Page 18
