That would depend on who was relaying the information.
“My husband had a difficult time reconciling what he learned about you, and your brothers, with the family he has hated for so long.”
Catrina wasn’t sure she understood. “What do you mean?”
Sara sighed, the corners of her mouth lifting in a wry smile. “Many of the people of Bristol have lived there for generations. They’ve become accustomed to unrest so close to the Border. But when your clan took it five years ago, even the most jaded among them were surprised. The Waryn family has claimed that barony for three generations. But despite the razed fields and burned and abandoned homes fresh in their memories, even the most skeptical villagers appreciated your brother. His reputation as a strong and fair leader did not go unnoticed.”
Catrina wasn’t sure what to say.
“Geoffrey said you are beloved there. The woman ‘who learns in a day,’ they call you. They say you’re good at just about everything.”
She knew the people of Bristol had warmed to her these past years, but this felt…bigger. More accepting. Catrina had just tried to eke out some semblance of normalcy while she mounted her campaign to convince Toren to allow her to marry Graeme.
“I’m not suggesting Geoffrey doesn’t want the same revenge Bryce seeks.”
Catrina’s shoulders sank. She must look as broken as she felt because Sara immediately grabbed her hands.
“But he has me to temper that desire. I know better than anyone the destructiveness a few seeds of hate can grow.” Sara smiled, her gaze steady and sincere. “And now that I’ve met you, now that I’ve seen you together, I’m even more convinced my plan will suit us all.”
“I don’t understand?”
“Nay,” Sara replied, “I don’t suppose you would. So let me be direct.”
Catrina was almost afraid of what Sara would say. She could hardly follow the conversation. From a woman dressed in breeches, one who treated her admitted enemy so kindly…’direct’ could mean just about anything.
“Catrina…I want you to marry Bryce.”
17
Catrina’s eyes widened. She stood there for what seemed like an eternity, staring into the smiling face of one of the most unconventional women she’d ever met.
Marry?
She glanced up at Kenshire Castle. Catrina had been so mesmerized by the sea and the sensation of walking on sand for the first time that she hadn’t taken the time to look back at the castle. It was even more impressive from this angle. Towering above them, it seemed to almost float in the sky.
She felt dizzy. She blinked, attempting to clear her mind. Catrina tried to focus on Lady Sara, who clearly expected a response.
“You’re shocked,” Sara spoke quickly, “I know it seems crazy. But listen to me.” The countess squeezed her hands. “I’ve heard nothing but good things about you, which is surprising since, well, you are a Kerr after all.”
She had the good grace to look embarrassed about that particular proclamation.
“Then the rumors started swirling—” Sara continued.
“Rumors?” Catrina finally found her voice. “What rumors?”
Sara released her hands and began to make lines in the sand with her shoeless feet.
“About you…and Bryce?” She looked up.
Catrina’s heart began to race. Had he told someone about their encounters? How humiliating! She would kill him.
“I’m not sure what you mean,” she answered, her voice hesitant.
“Just that, well, there’s been a bit of talk about…how shall I say it. An ‘interest’ between the two of you.”
“An interest?” Catrina was sure she sounded like an utter idiot.
“It’s not important. What matters is the way Bryce looks at you. And you him. I must admit to being slightly excited about the possibility of a new sister-in-law. I mean, Emma is a wonderful girl, but she is still a girl, after all. When Bryce refused to eat dinner in the hall, I didn’t understand why at first, but then—”
“A new sister-in-law?” she interrupted.
“But then last eve it became clear. He cares for you. Doesn’t want to, of course. Probably hates himself for it. But that hardly matters because the rumors were accurate. You are meant for each other!”
Marry Bryce?
“Lady Sara—”
“Sara, please. We’ll be related, after all.”
Catrina doubted that very much. “I don’t believe Bryce cares for me at all. Actually, I think the exact opposite is true. I sought you out this morning for advice. He refuses to reconsider letting me go free. He’s intent on revenge. Understandably so, perhaps, but my brother did not kill his parents. Toren didn’t want Bristol, but he was ordered to extend his holdings south. The king may publicly recognize the newly established border, but privately he does not. And neither does my clan.” Catrina was speaking so fast, she could hardly get the words out. “But I think I can convince them that Bristol Manor is lost. Unfortunately, Bryce won’t listen to reason. So he most certainly does not care for me. Otherwise he wouldn’t be intent on killing the people I love.”
By this point Catrina had worked herself into a state. She paced back and forth.
“Bryce doesn’t know my brothers. They’ll demand retribution for keeping me hostage. I’ve tried to talk reason to him, but it’s no use. By God’s bones and St. Mary’s too, I refuse to sit by idly while the men I care for slaughter one another!”
She realized immediately what she’d said. And judging from Sara’s face, the countess had heard it too.
“I knew it! Bryce has never hidden from a woman in his life, or not as long as I’ve known him. Just the opposite actually.” Sara covered her mouth with her hands. “I mean, not to say—”
“The Slayer. I know. His reputation precedes him.”
Sara shrugged her shoulders as if to apologize for the slip. “Then it’s settled. Don’t you see, it’s a perfect solution. He’s been downright pleasant since he arrived. And now I know why. It’s perfect!”
Catrina had to disagree. “Pleasant? You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Oh aye. Normally his disposition leaves much to be desired.”
Catrina wouldn’t argue that point. “That much is true. But even so…”
“I knew it!”
Sara smiled so broadly, Catrina almost hated to point out the flaw in her plan. “But it doesn’t matter. I’m to be married already.”
As much as she didn’t want to talk about Graeme—her feelings for him over the last few weeks had felt anything but secure—Catrina felt compelled to tell Sara of him.
“Who?” Sara narrowed her eyes. Her expression looked quite familiar. She’d obviously acquired the Waryn scowl since marrying the family’s eldest son. Sara began walking toward the castle. Catrina followed.
“His name is Graeme deSowlis. A neighbor and enemy to my clan. Until recently, that is. Rumor has it, Toren allied with him for my benefit. Which is exceedingly odd since I’ve spent the better part of three years trying to convince Toren to allow our marriage.”
“So you’re not betrothed?”
“Nay, not formally. But a marriage between Graeme and I, one that would unite our clans again, seemed very…natural.”
Picking up her shoes, Sara shook out the grains of sand clinging to them.
“Natural? I’m afraid that doesn’t sound very convincing.”
Catrina picked up her own leather shoes and imitated Sara.
“Graeme is wonderful. A true gentleman. Now chieftain of his clan. He’s a respected warrior. Any woman would be lucky to call him husband.”
They walked through the grass toward the entrance of the hidden sea gate.
“Do you love him?”
Catrina stopped in her tracks. Sara looked at her expectantly. What could she say? Of course she loved him. She’d always loved him. Graeme was going to be her savior. The man who would give her the thing she’d always wanted.
A rea
l family.
But Sara deserved the truth. As her feelings for Bryce grew, despite her best efforts to squish them, it had become clear to her that she did not love Graeme that way.
“Like a brother.”
Catrina had not expected a response, and she didn’t get one. She looked away from the looming castle above them. The sun rose high above the water, marking a new day. One she expected to be similar to the last. Stuck between wanting to protect her brothers and denying what she felt for her captor.
Must it be so? She had railed against her brothers so often about her lack of freedom that she’d convinced herself it was the only way. That the men in her life would, whether she liked it or not, decide for her. But somehow this conversation with Lady Sara Caiser, Countess of Kenshire, had changed everything.
There was another way. Today would not be the same as the last. Or the same as every day she’d spent at Bristol, allowing Toren to control her fate.
This day would be different.
She looked at Sara, who nodded encouragingly.
Yes, today she would control her own fate.
18
It was just as he’d expected.
A force of over one hundred men marched south from Brockburg. The Kerr chief’s motives were now clear. He came for his sister. The small army was headed toward Kenshire.
Kerr didn’t hide the fact that he was gathering an army. If the scouts’ report was accurate, representatives from no less than three clans—Kerr, deSowlis, and Moffat—were headed this way. That Kerr could have easily brought more men told Bryce this was nothing more than a show of force. Kenshire’s walls could not be breached, and the chief knew that.
Bryce’s new plan was a simple one, even though Geoffrey vehemently disagreed with it. He would insist on trial by combat for the crimes committed against his family. Hugh had ridden out to meet with the contingent from Brockburg to negotiate with the chief of Clan Kerr. The terms were simple. They would solve the issue of Bristol’s lordship in a trial by combat, but they would champion themselves. The lord and the chief.
The winner would claim Bristol Manor, and the loser would relinquish all claims to Bristol, the lordship as well as its manor and village. Its people would be assured safe passage to leave or, if they preferred, to stay and serve the lord, whether he be English or Scottish.
Catrina would be returned to her clan either way.
He would not allow the people of Bristol to live with the threat of Clan Kerr constantly looming. The border was dangerous territory, aye. But he would never allow what happened at his home five years ago to repeat itself.
In a strange way, he had Catrina to thank for his plan.
Bryce had spent five years hating the name Kerr. Five years planning vengeance on those who had killed his parents. At first, Bryce had hated Catrina too—simply for who she was. But he eventually realized his hate for her was unwarranted.
He knew that now. He shuddered to think of how he had treated her at Bristol. She’d won the hearts of Bristol’s people—from Evelyn to the maid, Elise, and Thomas and the men who guarded her. Every one of them had immediately seen what it had taken Bryce too long to notice. She was a kind and capable woman who said the most outrageous things.
Yet she was a Kerr.
Hatred had blinded him. The men who fought for Toren Kerr may be Scottish, but they spoke like his men, bled like his men. Why should they be casualties to this unending war over the border?
But there was one man he could not, would not, forgive. The one that gave the orders to destroy his home. Whose men had killed both his father and mother.
Toren Kerr had to die.
Of course, if Toren Kerr agreed with the arrangement, it was still possible their individual sovereigns might overrule the agreement. Luckily Lady Sara’s connections at court ensured the English monarch, at least, would not interfere. And there was talk that Toren Kerr had more sway now than he had five years earlier.
Such a trial would put a legal end to their feud. It would end it for everyone.
Bryce made his way to the stable. Intent on an early morning ride to clear his head, he’d skipped the meal and asked the cook instead for bread. The saucy servant who was always free with her opinions had said he acted too much like Lady Sara. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but she’d given him two slices of freshly baked bread, still warm.
Setting aside a niggling feeling of guilt, he ordered his horse ready for a ride. Bristol’s entire stable, even though it was large for a modest manor, could fit inside a few stalls of Kenshire’s massive structure. Only one stable hand appeared. The others and the marshal, Eddard, broke their fast in the keep. Sara’s insistence that all the servants sup together with the lord and lady was not unusual at Kenshire.
Bryce had advised Geoffrey not to tell his wife of his plan. He had no desire to be followed for days as she attempted to talk him out of it, which was exactly what Sara would do if she knew. And then there was Catrina. Bryce tried to force his mind elsewhere. He hated thinking about how she would react.
It will kill her. The niggling feeling of guilt became an iron weight in his chest.
As he waited, a beautiful chestnut seemed to be looking at him. Of course, Davie was no more aware of what he had planned than his lady, but as Bryce moved closer to Catrina’s beloved horse, he couldn’t help but feel…sorry for her, for himself, for this whole sordid situation.
The inn had been a mistake. And when Sara had insisted he dine in the hall, he’d known nothing good would come of it. Then she’d entered the hall dressed as fine as the countess, her hair held back like a queen’s, and Bryce had worried he would embarrass himself. Which was absurd since he’d stopped caring about others’ opinions long ago.
He had to remind himself every day that her brother had caused his parents’ deaths. It was the only thing that could allay the spell she seemed to have cast on him. Lust for a beautiful woman had gotten him into trouble only once before in his life. Since Lady Elena, he had kept himself at a distance. Women sated his desires, nothing more.
But Catrina got to him in a way that, frankly, scared him. It was entirely different than his boyhood fascination with Elena. The closer he and Catrina became, the more he thought of her. Now, he found himself banishing the woman from his thoughts every waking hour.
He could sense a presence behind him and turned to find the object of his thoughts—and his desires—leaning casually against the entranceway. He’d seen the strange garment before on his sister-in-law. Although it had jarred him the first time he spied Lady Sara in such a state, Bryce had spent quite a bit of time at Kenshire since the wedding.
So he was used to seeing the countess dressed that way. But Catrina was an entirely different matter. He was jolted back to the evening they’d spent together. He imagined his hands caressing her long legs, every curve so much softer than his own.
Those very legs were now clearly outlined for all to see. And if the stable hand’s expression was any indication, Bryce was not alone in his admiration.
“Get out,” he snapped at the boy.
The lad jumped and led Bryce’s horse out of the stable.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Catrina said.
He stared at her as fixedly as a squire who was seeing a naked girl for the first time. Her reddish-brown hair was pulled back in a long braid. Her full lips pursed together in an expression of displeasure. How he longed to soften them with his tongue. Taste her as he’d done at the inn. Watch her expression change from alarm to pure, unbridled pleasure. Bryce shifted his weight, suddenly uncomfortable, and glared at her.
“What are you wearing?”
She walked toward him, and by God, he knew this was some sort of test. A test he could not help but fail.
“What does it look like I’m wearing?” Catrina moved past him, her arm briefly grazing his own as she reached for Davie.
“It looks like you’re wearing a pair of Sara’s breeches. The question is, why?”
; Davie clearly loved the attention, neighing softly.
“I accepted her very kind offer. When I mentioned giving Davie some exercise this fine morn—”
“You’re not permitted to leave the castle grounds.”
His tone was harsh. Necessarily so.
“Aye, which is why I’m going with you.”
Oh no, she isn’t.
“No.”
She turned and laid a hand on his arm. Bryce was not strong enough for this. She looked at him expectantly, eyes wide. Her dark lashes fluttered as she blinked. Innocent was never a word that came to mind when he thought of Catrina. And neither was ‘seductress,’ but unless he was mistaken, that was a fairly accurate description of her at this moment.
“It won’t work, Catrina.”
Her eyebrows drew together in mock surprise. “Whatever do you mean?”
He nearly laughed. Catrina had many assets, but subtlety wasn’t one of them.
Unlike her, Bryce did have experience in the art of seduction. She wouldn’t change his mind, but he could have some fun showing her how this particular game was played.
“I mean—” He took a step closer, so they were near touching, and reached out to stroke Davie’s sleek flank. He watched the horse’s muscles flex under his fingers. “—that if you intend to seduce someone—” he covered her hand with his own, stroking the horse with one joined movement, “—then do it correctly.”
Bryce intertwined his fingers with Catrina’s and lifted her hand from the horse. Turning it over, he rubbed her palm with his thumb in slow, circular movements. When her mouth opened to speak, he cut her off.
“Nay, don’t. I know Sara well. And I’m beginning to understand the Scottish lass that is my reluctant hostage.” He slid his thumb through the opening of her odd garment—something between a thick chemise and surcoat with sides—and exposed the wrist below. Lifting it to his mouth, he kissed her softly, allowing his tongue to graze the sensitive skin there.
The hunter had become the hunted. Bryce watched her swallow hard and knew he’d accomplished his task.
The Lord's Captive (Border Series Book 2) Page 17
