Vengeance 02.5 - A Knight's Christmas Wish

by Lana Williams

  Her dark hair was bound in a loose braid and hung over her shoulder. Strands of it tickled his arm as she leaned forward to remove the bandage. Again her lavender scent enveloped him. She was close enough that he could see the length of her lashes, the arch of her brow, the creamy smoothness of her skin.

  He berated himself. She was a grieving widow—well, a widow anyway—and all he could do was think lecherous thoughts. Thoughts that included her running her hands along his body, her hair unbound. He’d return the favor and caress the sweet curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts. He clamped his eyes shut and drew in far too deep of a breath.

  The pain came swift and sharp and held enough of an edge that his desire eased.

  “Am I hurting you?” She paused her movements, her body close enough to his that he could feel the heat of her.

  “Nay,” he ground out.

  “I’m nearly finished.”

  So am I

  , he added silently, willing his body to behave.

  “This might hurt a bit.” She took a cloth and dipped it in water then gently cleaned the dried poultice from his wound.

  He lifted his head to see that it continued to emit puss but didn’t seem to have worsened. Each press of the cloth on that area had his ribs aching until he gritted his teeth.

  “I’m terribly sorry.” Her movements stopped as she watched him closely. “The rest shouldn’t cause you as much pain.”

  “Where did you learn your healing skills?” he asked.

  “My mother was a talented healer, but she died when I was eight. My mother’s sister, Lady Anne, is quite knowledgeable as well. She lives here with me.”

  “Do you have brothers and sisters?”

  “Nay, much to my father’s dismay.”

  “What will you do now?” Rylan knew it was none of his affair, but he couldn’t help but wonder. Rainald’s brother, Harold, would inherit the holding if Rainald had no son. It would not be uncommon if Kayte and Harold married. He scowled at the thought. While Harold appeared younger than Rainald, it wasn’t by much, and he was no more pleasant than his brother had been.

  She paused, those blue eyes studying him closely. “Actually, that is why I came to your chamber last eve.”

  Uneasiness filled Rylan. He had the feeling he wasn’t going to like what she said next.

  “I intend to enter the Convent of Saint Gabriel. I wondered if you would consider escorting my aunt and me there.”

  He knew the place. His Aunt Cristiana had stayed there briefly before her marriage to his Uncle William. While not exactly on his way home, it wasn’t in the opposite direction either. But something about the way she watched him made him think there was more to her request. “You wish to take your vows?”

  She hesitated ever so briefly before nodding.

  “You are young. Surely you will marry again.”

  She watched him for a long moment as though pondering a decision. “If I stay here, I will be married to Harold whether I say aye or nay.”

  “I see.”

  “I have no desire to marry Harold.”

  He certainly didn’t need to ask why.

  She smiled. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not feeling well. I had no right to mention this now. We will speak again once you’re better.”

  As Rylan watched her take her leave, he sighed. While he appreciated her dilemma, he had no desire to delay his arrival home for Christmas more than he had already.

  * * *

  Kayte paced her chamber the next evening, wondering if she dared to speak with Rylan again about escorting them. Each time she’d checked in on him during the day, he’d been sleeping. Joseph had kept watch over him.

  “We’d best go down for the meal.” Anne rose from her chair and shook the wrinkles from her kirtle. Her rather plump figure attested to her fondness for food.

  “I’d rather not.” The idea of spending another evening in Harold’s company held little appeal. Not now that she had no husband to protect her. “Perhaps I could say I’m too overcome with grief to join him.”

  Anne knew all too well to whom she referred. “I doubt that would please him.”

  Kayte sighed. “You think I should go down and hope he behaves?” Harold had made it very clear that he blamed her for Rainald leaving. She could only imagine his rage now that they knew Rainald had died in battle. Never mind that a tiny part of her worried he was right. Mayhap it all was her fault.

  “If we intend to leave with Sir Rylan, wouldn’t it be better to act as normally as possible?”

  “I suppose you’re right. Just in case.” Rylan had seemed less than eager to take them to the convent. Had he somehow already realized that escorting them would bring forth Harold’s wrath?

  “You still have doubts the knight will aid us?” Anne asked.

  “He was not feeling well enough to discuss it.”

  “Then you must talk to him again and convince him.”

  “How? I have nothing to offer him. No coins, nothing of value.” She shook her head. That was the same problem she’d had with her father. She’d had nothing of value, so he’d offered her to the lord who required the least amount of dowry.

  Anne smoothed the woolen blanket on the bed. “What do you think of the knight?”

  “He seems kind.”

  “And?”

  Kayte looked at her aunt, uncertain of her meaning. “What more would you have me say?”

  “Do you find him handsome?”

  Her cheeks filled with heat even as his image filled her mind. He was incredibly handsome. Strong jaw and high cheekbones. Broad of shoulder. Narrow of hip. All the things she used to dream of before she’d been presented with Rainald as her intended husband. But it was Rylan’s eyes that drew her. Those brown eyes held depths and layers and secrets which he protected carefully. What would it take for trust to show in their depths?

  “Kayte, did you hear me?”

  She turned to her aunt. “I’m sorry?”

  “We cannot possibly travel by ourselves. Certainly not this time of year.”

  Kayte nodded, waiting for her aunt to make her point.

  “You may not have coins to give him, but you have something else men desire.”

  She stared at her aunt until realization dawned. “Nay. I could never—”

  “I’m not saying you should seduce him. Heavens, I’d be the last person to give you advice on how to do such a thing since I never married. I only suggest you be pleasant to him. He’s injured and far from home. Surely you caring for him will make him feel more kindly toward you.”

  “Perhaps,” Kayte agreed. “I’ll speak with him after the evening meal again.”

  “Wonderful.” Anne squeezed her hand. “With luck, we’ll leave Cumberford behind soon and arrive at the convent in time for Christmas.”

  Kayte smiled but her heart didn’t. She knew spending the rest of her life in a convent wasn’t the right thing for her to do. Yet what choice did she have?

  Gathering her resolve, she nodded. “Let us go down to the great hall and then I’ll see how Sir Rylan fares after the meal.”

  “With luck, Harold will be too drunk to bother us overmuch.” Anne led the way out the door.

  The meal was as painful as Kayte had feared. Harold spoke morosely about his brother’s passing and drank far too much, all while taking turns staring at his brother’s empty chair and glowering at her. Kayte thought most of his grief was for show. He’d argued so often with Rainald that it was difficult to believe he mourned him overmuch.

  A short time later, Kayte knocked on the knight’s chamber door. No one answered. Panic filled her. Had they already departed?

  She opened the door to see Rylan still abed and breathed a sigh of relief. His squire was nowhere in sight. The knight appeared to be resting comfortably. His face no longer held the flush of a fever. She sat on the bed beside him and placed a hand on his forehead. Sure enough, he felt cool to the touch.

  His lashes fluttered open, and his gaze caug
ht hers. “Will I live?” He whispered the words with a smile.

  “Indeed. Your fever seems to have passed. How do you feel?” The sooner he felt well enough to travel, the better. Assuming he was willing to take them with him.

  “Weary. Sore. But better.”

  “I’m pleased to hear it.”

  His eyes closed, and she couldn’t help but admire his long lashes, the strong planes of his face shadowed by whiskers.

  “Thank you.” Those eyes opened and caught hers again. “You were far too modest when you spoke of your healing skills. I find myself in your debt.”

  She couldn’t help but smile at that. Under normal circumstances, she never would’ve hoped for repayment. But here, now, she couldn’t have wished for anything more. “Does that mean you might be willing to aid us?”

  He frowned, making her realize he hadn’t remembered her request. “I don’t think—”

  “Please. I only ask that you consider it.” Her heart sped at the idea of him saying no. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

  “I will be lucky if I see Joseph and myself home in one piece. I don’t know that I would be fit to assist you and your aunt.”

  She leaned closer, desperate to make him understand. “I swear we would be no burden.”

  His gaze dropped to her lips. “I don’t believe traveling together would be wise.”

  “We can care for ourselves. We only require your protection.”

  He said nothing but she could tell she had yet to convince him.

  Kayte bit her lip, trying to think of what else she might say. She had nothing to lose by telling the truth. “My father arranged my marriage to Rainald for gold and land. Not for me.” She shook her head, determined not to reveal how much that still hurt. While she knew that was the way of such things, it didn’t make it easier. “As you may have guessed, Rainald was much older than me. I fear we had little in common.”

  Rylan frowned. Though he well knew arranged marriages were quite common, that had never been the case with his parents, nor his Uncle William and Aunt Cristiana. They all had been lucky enough to have love matches. He supposed he had always expected to do the same. “I can only imagine how difficult it must’ve been, but it’s over now.”

  She nodded and glanced away. If he didn’t know better, he’d think those might be tears in her eyes. His worry increased tenfold. A woman’s tears were nothing to be taken lightly, as his mother had told him time and again.

  “As I mentioned before, if I don’t leave soon, I fear Harold will demand we marry.” Her voice quivered on the last words, melting something near his heart.

  The idea of that did not please Rylan in the least. “He can’t be much younger than his brother.”

  “Three summers.”

  He tried to steel himself against the fear in her face. This whole situation was certainly unfortunate but not his concern. He only wanted to travel home for a fortnight to spend Christmas with his family. Then he’d be bound for Scotland all too soon. If he delayed his journey home any more, he might miss Christmas with his family. That held little appeal.

  But Lady Kayte did.

  She appealed to him very much. That was all the more reason not to become involved in the situation. He needed to fulfill his obligation to the king in Scotland before he could consider finding a wife.

  For a moment, the memory of his father telling him how he’d had no intention of marrying but his plans had all been tossed out the window when he’d met Rylan’s mother, Elizabeth.

  That had been an unusual situation though. His father’s gift of second sight had led him to his mother. Perhaps not for the right reasons, but it had taken him to her all the same.

  Rylan had nothing to guide him, no second sight to show him the way. This was another one of those times when receiving a sign of some sort would be of great help. But that had always been Rylan’s wish—that he’d have the sight like his father and his brother and sister so he would know which path to take when a fork appeared in the road.

  He brushed aside the longing. Hadn’t he learned by now that no purpose was served by wishing for what couldn’t be?

  “It would be best if you found another escort.”

  She leaned closer, her blue eyes holding his, and full of tears. “Please. There is no one else I could ask.” She put her hand on his chest to better plead her request.

  He drew a deep breath even as he trailed a finger along the softness of her dark hair. While he was still tired and not feeling himself, he wasn’t dead. Resisting a beautiful woman who begged for a favor would take a better man than he. He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing once again for some sort of sign as to what he should do. When he opened them, she was so close that he could see pale blue flecks in her eyes.

  “I wouldn’t ask if I had any other choice.” She bit her full bottom lip, and Rylan nearly groaned in response. “Would you at least consider it?”

  That he could agree to. Perhaps more time to consider would help him make the right decision. “Aye. I will.”

  She eased back as she breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. And please know that my aunt and I would be no trouble.”

  “What of Harold? I assume he is less than pleased with your wish to join the convent?”

  “I have not yet told him. Attempting to have a conversation with him is not easy or pleasant.”

  “I can understand that.” He rubbed his hand over his eyes, wondering what sort of problem he was getting into.

  Chapter Four

  “We have much to discuss, Kayte,” Harold informed her as he entered the great hall the next morn. Shadows under his blue eyes and the sallow shade of his skin revealed his fondness for drink. The odor of old ale wafted around him as though a permanent part of his scent.

  “Oh?” Her stomach churned as he took her husband’s place at the head table next to her for the first time. In truth, she was surprised he’d waited this long. She knew he wanted to take his place in other ways as well. She couldn’t allow that to occur.

  Harold could do whatever he wanted with Cumberford. She only wanted away from here. Away from him. It had taken all her restraint to keep her distance from Rylan’s chamber this morn. She wanted to beg him to take her and Anne away from this place.

  “The holiday will soon be upon us,” Harold continued as he placed an arm around her shoulder. “Though we are mourning my brother’s passing, we have an obligation to the villagers to continue with our normal celebration.”

  Kayte studied Harold’s expression as she shifted away from his touch. His brushy gray brows were furrowed over his pale eyes, but that was nothing unusual. In truth, he did not appear to be grieving any more than she. Mayhap they had this one thing in common—neither of them missed Rainald.

  “Anne and I will oversee the candle making later this day.” Two candles were given to the servants and villagers on Christmas Day to allow them to celebrate well into the night. They’d also receive loaves of bread, cheese, and ale as well as a meal with the villagers contributing their own cups, plates, and napkins to the feast. They were allowed to take home any food still left on their cloth.

  The long dreary weeks between December and Epiphany were difficult to bear. The fields were either frozen or soaked in rain. The days were short and the nights far too long. The villagers deserved reward for their hard work through the harvest.

  With any luck, Kayte and Anne would not be here to celebrate the holiday.

  During her childhood, before her mother’s death, Christmas and the days following had been something to look forward to. The hall had been decorated with holly, bay, ivy and other greenery. A yule log had burned in the fire for twelve days until Epiphany. Everyone had been in high spirits.

  But after her mother’s death when Kayte was eight summers, all of that had gone away. Her father had done little to celebrate the holiday, seeing it as a waste of time and money. Nothing she’d said had convinced him to do otherwise. Last year, Rainald had not been much better. W
hile certain customs were honored, little merriment had been seen.

  Even though Rainald was gone and Kayte hoped to be far away, the holiday held little to look forward to for her. She had to believe the convent would not consider merrymaking an appropriate past time. Her days would be spent in work and prayer. She reminded herself that this was what she wanted. And truly, it would be better than marrying Harold. Sitting next to him now only confirmed it.

  The older man stroked her arm, and it was all she could do not to jerk away. He took the piece of bread before her and tore it in half, keeping one for himself and offering the rest to her.

  She took it reluctantly as he smiled at her.

  “Holiday preparations are not the only thing we have to discuss. I noted how much time you’ve been spending with that knight. Surely he is well enough to be on his way.”

  “He is still recovering from an injury. After he traveled all this way to tell us of Rainald’s passing, the least we can do is aid him.”

  “Enough is enough. ’Tis time for him to go.” He waved his hand in dismissal.

  Anger filled her. “He’ll leave when he is well enough to do so. I’m certain he has no desire to stay here any longer than necessary.”

  Harold eyed her as though surprised she’d disagreed with him. “He is no longer welcome here.”

  “He will leave when he is ready.” When Harold opened his mouth to argue further, she held up her hand, palm out, trying to rein in her anger. “Do not worry yourself about the knight. There are far more important things which require your attention now that Rainald is gone.”

  He smiled. “I couldn’t agree more. With my brother’s passing, you and I are free to pursue our interest in each other.”

  The bread fell from her hand. “Interest?”

  Harold laid his arm across her shoulders. “I’ve seen the way you glance at me.” He squeezed. “I know how lonely you’ve been with Rainald gone for so long. I don’t want to waste any more time until we can be together. We will take our vows on Christmas.”