Telling his brother I was thinking of the very lady who has the ability to unravel all of our plans; in fact, I was considering going to Sutworth Manor, just to ensure she is well would not do. Nay, he would keep those thoughts to himself.
“Douglas is becoming impatient. He sent word this morning that unless Theffield capitulates soon, he’ll not be able to persuade the clans to our cause,” Graeme repeated.
Aidan stood. The midday meal had ended, and he no longer wished to sit still.
Clarissa had been at Sutworth Manor for a full day now. How had the priest reacted to her plan? Would he help her? Or betray her to her father?
“Aidan!”
His reverie was broken by his sister-in-law’s shriek from the hall entrance. Allie, with her husband. The streaks of dark blond in Allie’s brown hair were not unlike the streak of wildness she possessed, the most noticeable difference between her and Gillian, who was currently resting in her bedchamber. The visit was unexpected, but no less welcome. He quite missed Allie, and the longsword lessons he’d given her while she lived at Highgate End.
Both he and Graeme left the trestle table to greet them, Aidan’s hand falling to the dirk that never left his side. Given to him by Allie’s husband, Reid, the youngest of the four Kerr brothers, it reminded him of the role he’d played in bringing the couple together. A role he was quite proud of, but one which had nearly cost him Gillian’s loyalty.
She’d not cared for Reid. Hated him, in fact. But luckily, those sentiments were firmly in the past. As they reached the newcomers, Aidan shook Reid’s hand. Or attempted to at least. Allie threw her arms around him, nearly stumbling in her eagerness, as everyone around them laughed.
“’Tis been too long,” she said, letting go.
Her smile was as radiant as ever, the happiness she enjoyed with her new husband evident. “Not so long, sister.”
Then his eye caught Reid’s, and he knew this was no simple familial visit. They came bearing news, and the way things were going lately, the tidings would not be welcome.
“She insisted on accompanying me.”
Allie shrugged. “He insisted on making it difficult.”
Aidan listened to their banter with pride, happy to have been right about them from the start. They were good for each other. They were happy together. Would he and Clarissa have ever achieved this easiness with each other?
And then Allie leveled a look of her own at him.
Uh-oh.
He knew that look. She’d noticed his expression.
“Will you walk with me?” she asked.
As if he had a choice. She would not be waylaid, and if her expression were any indication, this would not be an entirely comfortable discussion.
“I will share Reid’s news but have some of my own,” Allie added.
“Of course,” he said, following her from the hall into the courtyard. Ignoring the activity around them, the squeals of young children running past and the distant sounds of the armory, Aidan and Allie walked up a stone stairwell that led to an eastern-facing wall-walk. It was only when they arrived at the top, as he laid a hand on the stone in front of them and looked up at the cloudless sky, that Allie began her assault.
“Tell me,” she said simply.
He pretended to misunderstand.
“It seems there has been another attack—”
“Aidan.”
His connection to Allie had been this way from the start. They were able to read each other’s signals as if they’d been raised brother and sister in truth. He could try to pretend all was well, but she would learn of Clarissa from Gillian anyway. Strangely relieved to talk to someone about this nagging feeling that he’d abandoned Clarissa, he told her everything.
From their first meeting at Theffield Castle to their unexpected reunion. He told her that he felt poorly for leaving Clarissa in front of Sutworth Manor, alone and with an uncertain future, but even more poorly for putting his clan in danger. When he was finished, Aidan did not know what to expect. Which was typical when dealing with Allie.
“Why are you here?” she blurted finally.
“Pardon?”
“Here. At Highgate. Why are you here and not there?”
She was surely jesting. “Did you not hear me? She is Theffield’s daughter. And in hiding from her own father. When he finds out—”
Allie’s eyes narrowed. “He will do what, precisely? Come to Sutworth to fetch her? If she’s lucky, the lady will already be gone, her life given to God. If not, what do you suppose he will do?”
He refused to answer that particular question.
“Allie, if I were to aid her further and Theffield learned of my interference—”
“Then ensure he does not.”
Late last eve, after everyone else was abed, he’d thought of just that. Aidan knew how to breach the castle walls. But if he were discovered . . .
“If I’m found sneaking into Sutworth, my guilt will be undeniable. And even if the men are not loyal to him—”
“Then do not sneak. Simply pay her a visit.”
Allie was even madder than he’d thought. “Why did I not think of that? Simply ride to Sutworth, announce myself, and walk straightway into the hall asking for Lady Clarissa. ’Tis a fine plan—”
“For someone who was quite clever in helping me find a way to be with Reid, you’re acting oafish. Of course you will not ask for her. Simply a friendly visit from a neighbor—”
“Who has not been to Sutworth in some years.”
“But do they not warrant a warning too? The same warning about the current troubles that Reid and I came here to deliver?”
She’d managed to surprise him. He’d almost forgotten they had another purpose in being here. “What warning?”
Allie swallowed. “The Waryns are worried. Apparently the unrest has spread to the east. Even the most moderate English border lords are beginning to call to arms.”
It was what they feared would happen if the Day of Truce fell apart permanently. With the English king’s health deteriorating, and his heir overseas on Crusade, the borders apparently did not warrant the attention of those in power.
“Another reason not to incite trouble with the only man who may help us avoid war.”
“And that is the only reason you won’t go to Sutworth?”
Nay, not the only reason at all. But Aidan was finished with this conversation.
“You and Gillian are safe, for the moment. Our clan is safe. Nothing else—”
“Matters, I know. You’ve done everything possible to ensure it is so.”
Aidan straightened, knowing that was not true. Escorting Clarissa had put them in jeopardy.
“You do not understand—”
“Oh, aye, I understand well,” Allie said. “It is you who does not understand. But you will.”
With that cryptic statement, she walked away.
Laughing aloud, not caring if the guards overheard him and thought him daft, Aidan could not help but appreciate the situation. Allie was urging him to steal away to Sutworth—just like he’d helped her steal away to Brockburg when she and Reid were separated.
But this was different. Gillian had disliked her sister’s choice, aye, but that was not the same as risking the wrath of the Earl of Theffield. Yet . . . if Clarissa did not tell anyone how she’d come to be at Sutworth, was there really any danger in paying her a visit as Allie had suggested?
Do not attempt to fool yourself. Of course there is a danger.
But his sister-in-law was right on one account. He could not sit here and wait to learn of Clarissa’s fate. He would leave a quick message to Graeme, and then he would go to Sutworth and return before nightfall.
Just to ensure all was well.
Chapter 9
Though not as large as Theffield Castle, Sutworth Manor was every bit as opulent. Clarissa spied her father’s hand in small details throughout the hall. Overly bright tapestries chronicling the exploits of English kings lined the wall
s. He’d certainly done nothing to endear himself to the people here, proud borderers who likely did not appreciate the flaunting of their very English lord. Though it was fairly common for nobles on both sides of the border to own estates in both England and Scotland, she suspected most of them attempted to assimilate a bit more than her father had.
Of course they hated him here. And, unlike at Theffield, the servants were not as circumspect in their disrespect of their master. When she entered the hall for the midday meal, Clarissa did not know what to expect. But it didn’t take long to realize the very thing she feared most had happened.
They knew why she was here.
First, the steward had approached her with a whispered apology. “I’m sorry, my lady. We will protect your secret.” Someone, likely Father Patrick, had told him the truth.
So much for the man’s vow of secrecy.
Then, as the meal was served, another servant gave her a pitying glance and sad smile. The servants’ behavior was pronounced enough that she left the head table in search of Kirstine.
The maid confirmed what she already knew—they were all aware of her situation—and promised it was not her who told. Word had already spread throughout the manor. She vowed to learn what she could and report back to Clarissa at the head table.
Fulfilling her promise, Kirstine returned with news a short time later as Clarissa ate a bowl of rather tasty stew alone at the head table. Those retainers who also ate in the hall hardly seemed to notice her.
“Father Patrick told the steward of your plight. And it seems the news spread from there.”
Clarissa’s heart sank.
“But do not fret, my lady!” The maid lowered her voice. “There is no great love here for your father, begging my pardon, and all of us are willing to help. In fact, we are most anxious to do so.”
That was all well until the wrong person learned of her true purpose here. But her troubles were hers alone, not the maid’s.
“Thank you, Kirstine.”
Dismissing her, Clarissa decided she was no longer hungry. She left the high table in a hurry, which was how she came to nearly collide with . . .
“Oh!”
She stopped just short of her guest and Master Gavin, who had apparently entered together from the double door of the small keep. Sutworth Manor had been built in stages, the small keep ironically the name for the largest of three towers connected by shouldered archways.
“My lady.” Aidan bowed as grandly as any gentleman. “You are Lord Theffield’s daughter, are you not?”
Gavin appeared confused by the hurried greeting. By rights, the steward should have introduced them, but Aidan had needed to convey a message. She understood immediately and replied in kind.
“I am,” she said. “Though it appears you do not remember our last meeting.”
Aidan’s eyes widened.
“You visited Theffield with your brother and father many years ago. Through God’s grace, you’ve not changed much.”
When he smiled, a genuine smile that did not make her feel as if she’d done something wrong, Clarissa’s knees weakened, though thankfully they continued to support her.
“What brings you to Sutworth?”
She could tell Gavin wanted to break protocol and stay for the conversation—and she suspected he would not go far when he nodded in parting and walked away.
“I came to speak to whomever is in charge here about the current troubles along the border. Had I known you were in residence, I would have come to speak to you, or your father, sooner.”
Clarissa began walking, leading them out of the corridor and toward the door from which he’d entered the hall. They needed to find somewhere more private. A challenge inside a manor house such as Sutworth.
“I regret to inform you that my father is not here,” she said, although nothing was less regrettable than that fact. “I am here alone,” she continued as they stopped in front of the wooden doors. Divided by a thin line of stone, the two doors stood side by side as if standing guard. Pushing the iron handle of the one on the right, Aidan led her into the small inner courtyard. Sutworth Manor had a much more compact design than Theffield. The manor house, inner courtyard, and outer courtyard were arranged in a straight line courtesy of the cliffs on three sides.
Though much of the manor’s activity occurred in the larger outer courtyard, Clarissa still did not yet feel safe from watchful eyes. She led him to an unusual feature she’d once inquired about as a young girl, the caponier. Though the roofed passageway had been built as an added fortification inside the ditch between the inner and outer walls, it had quickly been abandoned.
The guards stationed above them were sure to notice that she and Aidan had entered the caponier alone. But she would worry about that later, if necessary.
They did not speak again until they entered the abandoned passageway. The exit had been filled in with stone long ago, and the only light flowed in from the entrance above them.
“What are you doing here?” she finally asked.
She was sure her voice betrayed her.
Clarissa had never expected to see him again.
“I had to know you were safe.” His deep voice echoed against the cold stone walls. “Are you? Safe?”
“I don’t know.”
Clarissa explained what had happened since her arrival, still unable to believe he was at Sutworth. “But what of you? What if my father learns of your visit?”
Aidan shrugged. “Perhaps he will be grateful that Clan Scott is an ally to the people of Sutworth at such a time. I came, after all, to relay news from across the border.” He looked directly into her eyes. “Not to see you.”
Clarissa swallowed. “Of course.”
None knew of his escort. But his visit was still risky.
“Thank you for your concern—”
“I loved you, Clarissa.”
The words pierced her heart. Nothing he could have said would have surprised her more. She didn’t know how to respond.
Loved. Of course he did not love her still. Why would he? She’d betrayed him in the very worst way.
“I should not have come—”
She reached out without thinking as Aidan turned to leave. His hand in hers reminded her of their contact as they rode to Sutworth. Now, as then, it was much more than a simple touch. Heat shot through his hand to hers, pooling in her very core. She tried to block out the memory that refused to be denied. Clarissa remembered their kiss well. Remembered how it had made her feel.
“Do not go.”
She had no right to ask him to stay. It endangered them both. And yet, the thought of seeing him walk away again . . .
He did not pull his hand from her grasp. Instead, he parted his fingers until her own slipped into the cracks between them. When he closed them again, their hands entwined, Clarissa could hardly breathe.
Something had changed between them.
Had he forgiven her for leaving that day? Why else would he have returned? And why did he have to be so handsome? The light stubble along his cheek and jaw had grown in just a bit more, and Clarissa wanted desperately to feel it against her own cheek.
She wanted him to kiss her again.
“I am still married,” she blurted, his slow smile making her wish she’d not opened her mouth.
“I am aware.”
Aidan did not move toward her. Instead, he stood there, so close she could smell him rather than the stale air around them. She could see the rise and fall of his chest beneath his simple linen tunic. He was so much larger than her, yet so very, very gentle.
“I would see you again.”
The statement seemed to surprise him as much as it did her.
“I do not know how long it will take for the nuns to reply. Or if someone here will betray me to my father first.”
Loved, she reminded herself.
That sentiment was firmly in the past for him, and she’d do well to remember it. For Clarissa, it was not, nor had it ever been. She
’d fallen in love with Aidan de Sowlis at that tournament, perhaps even before that when she was a young girl. If she’d ever doubted that truth, it was impossible to deny it any longer. She wanted nothing more than to stay in this caponier, enjoying the warmth and strength of his firm grip, sheltered from the world above.
But it could not be so.
“You are not the woman I stood next to at that lake, are you?”
“Nay, I am not. Lord Stanley has ensured that naïve young woman is gone forever.”
The old Clarissa may have blurted something silly, like “Take me with you” or “Maybe there is a way for us.” But she’d learned from her mistakes.
“I would like nothing more than to see you again,” she said. “But it will not make it any easier for me to leave.”
Aidan opened his mouth to say something, but she would never know what. He closed it, waited a moment, and then asked, “Will you send word when you arrive safely at Dunburg Abbey?”
She wanted to tell him that she’d not be going. That she could never give herself to God when she was still in love with him. That the thoughts she had of him late, late at night, alone in her bed, were anything but pure. That she was sorry for foolishly trusting her father at the tournament.
Instead, she said, “Aye.”
And when he released his hand from hers, she did not seek it out again. Nor did she go after him when Aidan turned to walk back up the stairs. Instead, she stood there, staring at the pinprick of light, waiting . . . for what? He was gone. She’d told him to leave. Because she had no other choice.
Or did she?
* * *
Aidan thanked the groom and was about to lead his horse outside when she stopped him.
“Would you . . .”
He turned and stared. Clarissa looked the same as she had moments before—the fitted bodice of her deep blue gown leaving little question of what lay beneath . . . her hair pulled back on the sides but otherwise completely free of any adornments.
But somehow she looked different too.
“Would you care to stay for the meal?”
Since supper would not be for some time, Clarissa was not merely being polite. She was asking him to stay the day, and though he knew he should not . . . he’d been both disappointed and relieved when she’d pushed him away . . . Aidan was powerless to refuse the invitation he’d hoped to receive.
The Guardian’s Favor: Border Series Book Nine Page 7
