As she wandered to the northeastern portion of the earthwork ring surrounding Pendragon, she began to hear great activity at the gatehouse. She could hear men shouting and a flurry of movement on the wall walk that flanked the gatehouse. Shielding her eyes from the sun, she could see a man on a horse in the distance and Keir’s soldiers surrounding the man as he entered the gatehouse. It meant nothing to her, as riders came and went from Pendragon on a regular basis, so she returned her attention to the River Eden which ran directly to the east of the castle.
The gently flowing waters were partially hidden by a grove of trees along the banks. Chloë moved down one of the causeways carved in between the earthworks and the moat, hearing grass moving behind her and glancing over her shoulder to see two soldiers following her at a respectful distance. She made a face, thinking she would like to be without guard dogs on her walk. She wondered if the men reported back to Keir every little thing she did and said. She wondered if he even cared.
She came to a halt on a rise in the causeway, watching the river flow and thinking on Keir. He was all she thought of, day and night, reliving their kiss over and over, feeling shattered that she would never know that kind of passion again. She was dismayed thinking she would not grow old by his side, bearing his children and sharing a love that was rare and precious. Maybe she was a fool; she certainly felt like one. It was enough to bring tears to her eyes that she angrily chased away.
She had no idea how long she stood there, gazing out over the river. The breeze blew her hair gently and with time, she was able to clear her mind a bit. As she was watching a big branch flow down the river, a voice came from behind her.
“My lady?”
Startled, she turned to see Keir standing a few feet behind her. She had never heard him approach. Instantly on guard, she turned back to the river as her eyes welled up with tears.
“I do not wish to speak with you, Keir,” she struggled not to weep as the sight of him had her rattled. “Please go away.”
She heard him sigh heavily. “Please, Chloë,” he murmured. “I need to speak with you.”
She shook her head, lowering it as tears popped from her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.
“There is nothing more you can say to me,” she whispered. “Please go, Keir… I cannot bear seeing you.”
Instead of leaving, he moved up behind her. She could feel the warmth of his body behind her and she audibly gasped, moving away from the man, so very fearful of his touch. She couldn’t even look at him, weeping softly into her hand.
Keir stood there, watching her with a breaking heart. “Chloë,” he breathed. “I have a message from your father.”
Her head came up then, the watery brown eyes focusing on him. The tears stopped flowing somewhat. “What… what does he say?” she sniffed.
He stared deeply into her eyes, mesmerized, feeling his heart shattering into a million pieces. He’d spent the past seven days wrestling with his feelings for her, knowing more by the day that he was in love with the woman and absolutely terrified to embrace it. But the more he saw her, the more she refused to speak to him as she closed herself up in her own little world, the more he knew that he could not live without her.
Perhaps he was fearful of loving someone again, but as he had told his brother, he was entitled to know happiness once more. Seven days of wrestling with that thought had seen him come to the conclusion that he would again embrace the responsibility of a woman he loved deeply, of a woman he could not stand to be away from for more than a minute. He would embrace the feeling of adoration again, stronger than he had ever known it, and he would try not to be afraid of losing it.
As he gazed into her beautiful eyes, he could only feel surrender in his heart. His fist slapped dully against his thigh as he dropped his hand in defeat.
“Chloë,” he murmured. “I cannot do this any longer. I cannot go through each day not speaking to you. It is killing me.”
She was back to tears again. “Then I must leave,” she wept softly. “I cannot stay here because it brings me too much sorrow also. Will you please send me back to Aysgarth?”
He shook his head. “Nay,” he murmured hoarsely. “I will not send you back because I am going to marry you.”
Chloë’s eyes widened and the tears stopped. She whirled to Keir, her mouth hanging open with surprise. She simply couldn’t believe what she was hearing after days of agony. For a moment, she thought she might have dreamed it.
“What… what did you say?” she gasped.
He smiled weakly. “I love you,” he whispered. “With all of my heart and soul, I do. I am sorry if I hurt you with my fears. It was terrible and wrong of me and I pray you can forgive me. Please say you will.”
Chloë stared at him, shocked. But her shock soon turned to realization, then realization to joy, and a smile spread over her face that outshined the sun. She just stood there and smiled, her eyes brimming with happy tears. All of the anguish from the past several days seemed to evaporate at that very moment.
“There is nothing to forgive,” she breathed. “I know you had many things to overcome.”
“But surely you are angry with me. You would not even look at me, not for all of the days since that night we last spoke.”
“It was self-protection, I assure you. I did not trust myself to look at you or speak to you and not break down. It was not because I was angry with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I am.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
His smile grew and he opened his arms to her. “Then come to me,” he commanded quietly. “It has been far too long since I last held you in my arms and I cannot go another moment without you.”
She ran at him, leaping into his arms. Keir caught her, holding her so tightly that the feel of her, the smell of her, brought tears to his eyes. He buried his face in all of that wonderful red hair, knowing his life was going to change from this point on but not caring. After the hell of the past three years, he didn’t think he’d ever feel such joy again. After several moments of happily hugging her, he set her on her feet and took her face between his two enormous hands.
“Listen to me and listen well,” he whispered, watching her glistening eyes. “I told you once that I knew I could love you so much that it would rip my heart and body and soul to pieces to even be away from you for a single minute. Already this past week has seen my heart and soul and body ripped to shreds for want of you. I am turning myself over to you completely, Chloë. I am yours as surely as the sun is a part of the sky. I am not a great nobleman who can provide you with titles and wealth, but I swear to you that I will love you until you die. Say that you will be my wife and make me the happiest man in the world.”
She reached up and stroked his cheeks with her thumbs, watching him kiss her fingers as she came near his lips. Boldly, she kissed his mouth, not surprised when he wound his arms around her and kissed her deeply.
“I will be your wife,” she murmured against his seeking lips. “I love you, Keir. I belong to you and only you.”
“Swear it,” he breathed.
“I do,” she declared, a two-part sentence because he was kissing her so furiously. “You have my heart forever.”
He smiled even though he was kissing her. She began to giggle and then he began to giggle, and soon he was spinning her around in happy circles, listening to her joyful laughter. It echoed off the walls of Pendragon, rippled along the earthwork and causeways. Again, there was joy at Pendragon, something that could be heard as well as seen. Keir stopped spinning her long enough to kiss her again.
“I love you,” he proclaimed.
“And I love you,” she responded breathlessly. “But we have a problem.”
His brow furrowed even though his smile remained. “What is that?”
She lifted a well-shaped eyebrow. “Cassandra,” she said as if he needed reminding. “I cannot get married before she does. It would be humiliating for her.”
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Keir’s smile faded and his lips pressed into a flat, irritated line. “She has my brother and Pembury chasing after her,” he pointed out. “She will not remain unmarried for long.”
Chloë shook her head. “Even so, you must do something to hurry them along,” she told him. “I want a summer wedding and I cannot do that if my sister is torn between two suitors. I believe your brother has the upper hand in this duel so you must do something to hurry him along.”
He nodded patiently, like a man does when his wife is nagging. It was the happiest nagging he could remember and he welcomed it.
“I will do my best, love,” he told her. “Do not forget that I want us to be married soon as well. Every day I cannot call you my wife is like torture.”
She smiled at him and touched his cheek. “You are so sweet,” she crooned, watching him kiss her hand. “I anxiously wait to call you my husband. No word on this earth will have greater meaning to me than that.”
His smile was back and he pulled her into his arms again, holding her close against him. Chloë’s head was against his chest, hearing his heart beating strongly in her left ear. One strong hand was in her hair, cradling her head, while the other was against her back.
“What did my father have to say?” Chloë asked, snuggled against him, wildly content. “You will have to speak with him very soon about our marriage. In fact, I think we should go to Aysgarth tomorrow.”
He was enjoying the feel of her against him. “We?” he repeated.
She lifted her head from his chest, gazing up at him. “Do you think I will let you go without me?”
“Probably not.”
She grinned. “Then we shall go on the morrow after you have had the opportunity to convince your brother that he must marry my sister.”
He scowled at her, though it was gently done. “I only have until tomorrow to convince Kurt to marry your sister?”
“Aye.”
He released her from his embrace and took her hand. He began to pull her back up the hill with him. There was urgency in his movements.
“Where are we going?” she wanted to know.
He helped her climb to the top of the wet and slippery earthwork. “To find my brother, for Christ’s sake,” he told her, feigning annoyance. “I only have eighteen hours to talk the man into a decision that will change his life. I had better hurry up.”
She held her skirts up with one hand while holding him with the other as they began to move across the giant earthwork mound. “What of Michael? He will be terribly disappointed.”
Keir spied Cassandra in the distance, lying on her stomach on the blanket that had been spread out across the grass. She was eating a green apple but when she spied Keir and Chloë, hand in hand, she suddenly sat up and waved at them. Keir lifted a hand and waved back.
“Sweetheart,” he turned casually to Chloë, “while I am doing my part to convince my brother he must marry, perhaps you should speak with your sister and tell her that she must focus on Kurtis. It would help his confidence immensely to know that Pembury is no longer competition.”
Chloë eyed her sister in the distance, who was now standing up and brushing off her coat. “I will tell her what she needs to do,” she said confidently. “But I warn you, she is enjoying having two men chase after her.”
“And they are enjoying the chase, at least for the most part. But I fear the next time my brother puts soot on Michael’s cup, there is going to be a brawl of epic proportions.”
Chloë giggled. “It was rather funny to see him walk around with that foolish black smile on his face.”
Keir fought off a grin. “It was humiliating.”
They were descending down the slope towards Cassandra, who was now walking over to greet them. Chloë shifted her grip on Keir and took his arm, pulling him closer against her. She was so thrilled to have the man in her possession, with everything well between them that she never wanted to let him go.
“You never did tell me what my father said, by the way,” she said softly, gazing up at him with her big brown eyes. “What was contained in his missive?”
Keir wriggled his eyebrows as Cassandra drew near. “He sends his love to you and thanks to me,” he replied. “He wishes you and your sister good health, hopes to see you soon, and assures you that Exelby is well on its way to being repaired. God only knows what the man will think about what went on at Pendragon when Kurtis and I ride to Aysgarth to ask for the hands of you and your sister.”
Chloë giggled. “My father wishes for us to marry well,” she looked up at him, feigning an imperious demeanor. “Are you wealthy, my lord?”
Keir snorted. “Not if I have a wife who spends my money on silks, oils, soaps and jewelry.”
Her mouth opened in outrage. “I did not buy any jewelry!”
He looked over, winking at her. “I will take care of that when I place a magnificent wedding ring on your finger so that all men will know you belong to me.”
Her smile returned just as Cassandra came upon them. The blond sister looked between the pair, a knowing smile on her face. She had watched them approach from the east side of the castle, hand in hand, and had felt a great deal of relief for her sister.
“May I assume, then, that all is well now?” she asked leadingly.
Chloë smiled coyly, her gaze moving between Keir and Cassandra. “Well enough,” she told her sister, letting go of Keir and moving to her sister. “You and I must have a conversation, Cassie.”
Keir watched her go, pulling her sister back towards their blanket with the knitting and stools spread upon it. His gaze drank in the graceful fall of that magnificent hair, the gentle slope of her torso and luscious figure. All of the fear he felt at opening himself up to her, of giving away his heart again, fled as he watched her speak with Cassandra. He knew he had made the correct decision and he could not have been happier about it. But he had work to do and very little time to do it if he was going to meet Chloë’s deadline.
“I will see you later, sweetheart,” he called to her. “Do not be out here too much longer. The hour is growing late.”
Chloë and Cassandra looked to him, Chloë with a sweet smile on her face and Cassandra with an expression of mild amusement. Cassandra’s amusement grew when he blew Chloë a kiss and headed back towards the castle. The man was fairly giddy. As he walked away, he could hear the sisters’ tittering and whispering, voices growing louder but not agitated. It was clear that Chloë was telling her sister the joyful news and Cassandra was reacting in kind.
Keir held the same satisfied grin all the way back to the castle.
CHAPTER TEN
Pembury did not go down without a fight. Literally.
It all started innocently enough. Keir, Lucan, Michael, Kurtis and one of Kurtis’ knights from Northumberland, a muscular warrior with a bushy red mustache named Ranulf Kluge, were in the great hall at suppertime, imbibing of the heady red wine that Keir had shipped from Manchester, and speaking of trivial things.
The mood was light, the warm fire burning in the hearth, as one of the serving women began to bring out trenchers of freshly baked bread. Dogs followed the woman, sniffing and begging. The men pulled at the bread, laughing as they shared stories of battles, and women, long past.
Kurtis was in a surprisingly good mood. Usually a silent and dour man, he was actually smiling and laughing along with the others until Michael brought up Cassandra. That was all Kurtis needed to hear for his smile to vanish.
“Wipe her from your mind, Pembury,” he said steadily, regarding the cup in his hand. “She will soon be Lady St. Héver and out of your reach.”
Michael sighed heavily, his smile fading. “How many times do I have to tell you this? I am more handsome than you are and set to inherit a barony. You have nothing to offer the woman, St. Héver. You would do well to concede defeat so we can remain friends.”
Kurtis’ pale blue eyes were icy. “At least I would remain true to her. The same cannot be said for you.”
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bsp; The verbal blows were coming low and swift. Michael’s humor left him completely. “What do you mean by that?”
Kurtis didn’t back down. He had a bulldoggish manner that had served him well as a battle commander. He would keep coming and coming or die trying.
“I seem to remember hearing of a young lady in Carlisle that you abandoned after stealing her virtue,” he said casually. “I heard that you left her for another pretty girl, of more noble breeding, because she was better connected.”
Michael was outraged. “Who told you that?”
Kurtis was as cool as ice. “De Velt,” he said, throwing Lucan to the wolves. “He said that the young lady in Carlisle bore your bastard.”
Michael turned furious eyes to Lucan, who immediately went on the defensive. He threw his hands up in surrender.
“I never…!” he sputtered.
“You told him that?” Michael roared.
Lucan stood up from the table, backing away from the enraged Michael. “We were speaking of many things, Michael,” he insisted, then pointed accusingly to Kurtis. “St. Héver bedded the sister of a Northumberland enemy so he could glean information from the woman. When she found out she had been used, she killed herself!”
Kurtis was on his feet, posturing furiously as Michael turned his venom back on Kurtis.
“You pretend to be so pious and pure,” Michael hissed. “See how the mighty have fallen into the pool of dirty dealings just like the rest of us.”
Keir was on his feet, moving between his brother and Michael. “Sit down!” he barked, looking at Lucan threateningly. “Another word from you and I will gut you myself. Keep your damnable mouth shut.”
Lucan threw up his hands again and backed away, watching Michael and Kurtis circle each other like hungry wolves. Keir stood in the middle of them with his arms outstretched to prevent them from rushing each other.
“Listen to me, both of you,” he growled. “I will not tolerate this foolery. Since when do women come between you two? You have known each other since you were squires. Neither one of you is perfect so put the unsavory accusations aside and reclaim your cups. That is not a request.”
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