The Knight's Reward (Border Series Book 10)

by Cecelia Mecca

  Chapter 14

  When Neill awoke, it took him a moment to remember where he was.

  Then it all came flooding back at once. Kathryn. Her story. Her father.

  Kathryn.

  He sprung up from his makeshift pallet on the floor and moved toward the bed. He watched her sleep, thankful that no worry lines marred the beautiful face that he ached to lean down and touch.

  She’d insisted she’d sleep in the hall, but he’d fought her on it. Although her concerns were valid—what remained of her reputation would be ruined should they be caught—he feared for her safety too much to let her sleep alone. His insistence that he’d afford her the privacy she needed in the morning, paired with a gentle reminder that they had stayed together in tighter quarters, had finally served to convince her.

  Last eve, he’d fetched a bowl of rosewater for her himself, then paced the corridors so she could wash and dress in peace. Thankfully, Bryce had been nowhere to be found.

  He dressed quietly, unwilling to wake her. Neill rose before the sun most days, and today was no exception. After pausing one last time to glance at her, a surge of protectiveness mixing with a very real stirring that forced him away from the bed, Neill left his chamber as quietly as possible.

  A soft knock on the door to his left, and it was opened a moment later.

  “Another change,” Bryce said. “You were never awake this early in the morn as a lad.”

  Bryce, on the other hand, had always risen early, something Neill had counted on.

  “We need to talk.”

  Bryce stepped to the side and Neill entered. With the exception of the alcove and window, his brother’s chamber was much the same as his own. Clean, well-appointed, fairly small. Having a private chamber was a rarity, so Neill was thankful.

  Especially after last night.

  Sitting in one of the two chairs at the small table, he didn’t waste time exchanging pleasantries with his brother. Instead, he told him everything.

  Although Kathryn had not given him leave to share her secret, he did not feel overly guilty for doing so. He needed both advice and assistance, if he were going to help find Kathryn’s father’s killer.

  And Neill planned to do just that. The man deserved justice.

  Kathryn deserved peace.

  The mere fact that she’d planned to question Bothwell herself, so brazenly, was reason enough for him to assist her. There was a real danger to her, and he’d not have her harmed.

  “Neill,” Bryce said, sitting on his bed. “Do you realize the delicacy of this situation?”

  “I do. But there is more to consider.”

  He couldn’t see his brother’s expression clearly from across the chamber, but he could easily imagine it. Years, days . . . it didn’t matter how long they’d been apart. Neill had been raised with this man, and he knew his habits well. His eyes, as blue as his own, will have grown dark.

  “More than the fact that there’s a woman asleep in your chamber, whose father, once the king’s royal messenger, was murdered by someone in the Scottish court, potentially a man who will be present at the council we both plan to attend in two days.”

  “Was that a question?”

  Bryce growled, “Aye, more than that.”

  He stood, grabbing the only light source as the wall torches had gone out in the night, a lone candle, and took it with him as he sat next to his brother on the bed.

  “There was a condition to the king’s reward. The boon was only granted after some negotiation.”

  “What condition?”

  “King Edward is vexed that King Alexander has hesitated to repledge his loyalty. He wished for it to happen soon after his return to England. He insists that it happen before he removes Caxton from office.”

  Bryce frowned. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “I know I did not mention it in my letters, but I knew of no secure way to tell Geoffrey in writing.”

  “The Scottish king has pledged to the English crown since the Treaty of Falaise. Why should he refuse to do so now?”

  Neill wondered the same. “That’s the very question I plan to posit tomorrow. It worries me that he’s delayed for so long.”

  Bryce stood. “Then it is even more important the wardens understand the stakes and communicate them to their king. Douglas will ensure it.”

  “Brother, you should sit. I’ve not finished.”

  Bryce did as he’d asked, the flickering of the candle between them casting an eerie glow on their early morning talk.

  “There’s more?” he asked tiredly.

  “Aye. One more condition.”

  Bryce swore under his breath.

  “I am to marry Lady Alina deBeers, the daughter of Baron deBeers and a personal attendant to the queen.”

  Bryce whistled. He thought on it a moment, then said, “The queen’s condition or the king’s?”

  Bryce, though a pain in the arse at times, was also quite intelligent.

  “The queen’s, I believe.”

  Bryce crossed his arms. “Is she fair?”

  “I’ve been told she is, but that hardly matters.”

  “It matters some.”

  “Though I do not believe you understand.”

  “I understand the king’s reward comes with a high price, but you’ve no choice but to pay it. As long as Alexander renews his pledge of fealty, all will finally be well again. At least as well as the borderlands have ever been.” He shrugged.

  “Such is the life of a border lord,” Neill said, a common refrain they’d both grown up saying. But it was their home, and one worth fighting for.

  He’d planned to tell Bryce more. He’d wanted to unburden himself about his feelings for Kathryn and the vow he’d made to help her. But something stopped him.

  “What do you plan to do about Bothwell?” Bryce asked, standing once again. “And more importantly, do you care to have a quick session before we break our fast?”

  It had been a tradition when they were lads, and Neill looked forward to having another go at his brother. But first he had to speak to Kathryn.

  “Aye. I will meet you in the training yard.”

  As Neill left the room, he felt a certain heaviness bear down on his shoulders. Although he wasn’t sure what he’d hoped for, part of him had wanted his brother to solve the problem for him. To convince him, perhaps, that the queen’s condition was not as important as he knew it to be. No matter. Surely he could help Kathryn while also ushering in a new initiative of peace at the border.

  The only cause he could not afford to advance?

  His own.

  As he walked back to his chamber, Neill chided himself for the thoughts that had stirred within him.

  She is not your lady.

  As natural as it seemed to offer her comfort, to touch and hold her, he could not afford to do so again.

  Certainly, he must refrain from kissing her.

  He opened the door, nearly groaning from the memory of her lips, so very hesitant, pressing against his with raw enthusiasm. Though obviously inexperienced, she’d learned quickly, the touch of her tongue so pleasurable it had infiltrated his dreams.

  Neill entered the chamber and froze.

  His good intentions evaporated in an instant.

  Scrambling over to the bed, Kathryn grabbed the undertunic and attempted to pull it over her head. She’d never dreamed Neill would return so soon, and so she’d thought nothing of standing around his bedchamber in her shift. When she’d awoken to find him gone, she’d assumed he’d left for the day.

  The shift was the only item of clothing she’d kept from her past life, reasoning no one would actually see it. The fine, sheer cotton was the only luxury that she allowed herself.

  And now it was on full display, her attempts to hurriedly don the undertunic failing miserably. Of course, she definitely never attempted to clothe herself in front of a man. And certainly not one as compelling as Neill Waryn.

  When she did finally manage to get it ove
r her head, she smiled at her gallant knight. His back was now to her.

  Clearing her throat, Kathryn reached next for her kirtle. Though at least now she was somewhat properly dressed.

  Neill turned. “Pardon, Kathryn.”

  “’Tis your chamber. I am the intruder here.”

  They stared at each other, light just beginning to stream in from beyond the shutters she’d opened. Kathryn’s chest rose and fell, her heart beating faster than was its custom, driven by an aching awareness of him.

  “You’re thinking of it too.” Kathryn could not believe her own boldness. Something about this man made her not want to hide. Her feelings. Her past.

  “I’ve thought of little else since we met.”

  The admission, not what she’d been expecting, prompted her to share the thoughts she’d been having as well.

  “I swore never to tell anyone my true identity, unsure who to trust. But then I met you . . .” She smiled. “You are a good man, Neill Waryn.” She knew the truth of it in her heart.

  “If you knew my thoughts at this very moment, you’d take back your words.”

  A thrill of excitement shot through her. She could not back down now.

  “I doubt that I would.”

  Neill closed the space between them, his breath smelling of the mint she’d found on the table.

  His mouth covered hers, and she welcomed it.

  This time, she knew what to do. Opening for him, Kathryn grasped the nape of his neck as he pulled her close. This kiss, more frenzied than the first one, held all the promise of his vow to her. Now that she’d shared her secrets, she felt closer to him, their connection sweeter.

  “Kathryn,” he murmured against her mouth. “I’ve so much to tell you.”

  Pulling back just slightly, she looked into his eyes. It struck her that she was nothing more than a serving maid for now. Neill was a third son, aye, but he was also brother to an earl. His family one of the greatest borderland clans in Scotland.

  And she didn’t know how long it might take, finding her father’s murderer. This, between them, could never be. And she knew that. Accepted it, even. But when he looked at her as if no one else in the world mattered . . .

  When he cupped her face, Kathryn closed her eyes.

  “Nay, open them.”

  She did.

  “Your eyes are beautiful. Like you.”

  She’d been told as much many, many times. But she’d never paid the words any mind. Not from her father, who was obligated to say such things. Not from her suitors, who said the same about countless other ladies at court.

  “I believe you.”

  He chuckled—a low, rich sound that reverberated through her. “You should. I’m not in the practice of saying things I don’t mean.”

  She smiled.

  “I told my brother.”

  It took her a moment, but when she absorbed his words, Kathryn pushed him away in horror.

  “Neill. No.”

  “Kathryn, listen to me. You trust me. You’d never have told me if you did not. And I trust my brother with my life. He’ll not say a word to anyone. I made a vow to you I intend to keep. But to do that, I will need the help of others I can trust. But you have to understand, Bothwell is dangerous.” He scowled, his jaw flexing. “Please do not speak to him alone.”

  “Others? Please, no. Who else have you told?”

  She’d made a mistake. Telling him had been a mistake.

  “I’d be grateful if you’d stay up here, just for a time. You said yourself that Douglas might recognize you. Bryce and I will speak to Toren, and—”

  “You propose to tell the lord of Brockburg my secret?”

  “And his wife.”

  Kathryn spun away, panicked now. This would not do. She was to tell no one but Magge, and now Neill and his brother knew, and it sounded as if he aimed to tell half of Brockburg.

  “Nay. I cannot let you do that.”

  “Kathryn.” He grabbed her hand, his manner urgent. “Listen to me. Bothwell is one of the most powerful men in Scotland. One who very likely had your father killed.”

  Her eyes widened. “You suspect it too?”

  She thought it more likely someone from the English court wanted her father dead. But the very man who had seen him last? Aye, he could just as likely be the culprit.

  “I don’t know, but it’s certainly possible. The situation is beyond suspicious. But to learn the truth, we cannot face this alone. If you confront him, do you really believe he will confess all he knows?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I never thought he would, but I thought his reaction might tell me what I wished to know. My father always said you need only to look into someone’s eyes to know if they’re being truthful. If I knew . . .”

  “Then what?”

  Of course she’d thought about that many, many times, but she’d never come to a conclusion. Another sign of her impetuous nature, she knew.

  Someday, Kathryn, you will learn patience. Otherwise, I fear you will kiss the hare’s foot.

  Her father’s favorite saying. No doubt it would have horrified him to learn she’d put herself in such a situation without a real plan.

  “You cannot go this course alone. You must understand, if Bryce or I were to question him, it would raise suspicions. Toren, however, has dealt with Bothwell for years, and he and his wife would be ideally suited to questioning him quietly. Delicately. But we must keep you safe in the interim.”

  “I am safe enough.”

  He made a face. “And when Douglas recognizes you?”

  “I’d planned to stay away from the hall.”

  “Then where, pray tell, did you plan on confronting Bothwell? Did you think he would simply grant you an audience?”

  She crossed her arms. “I could have spoken to him upon his arrival if a certain English knight had not waylaid me in the courtyard.”

  “And thank the heavens I did,” he shot back.

  They stared at each other, neither of them speaking, until Neill said, “Bryce awaits me. Shall I bring my brother and our hosts here after they break their fast, so that we may speak to them and devise a plan? Or will you follow me through that door, find Bothwell, and demand justice for your father in front of a hall filled with his loyal subjects? The choice is yours.”

  He made it difficult to think.

  Her very life could be in jeopardy if she made the wrong choice, but like a silly twit, Kathryn could not stop staring at Neill’s lips. She’d never imagined a man’s lips could bring her such pleasure.

  This time, it was she who closed the distance between them. Touching his hand, because she needed to touch him, she gave him the only answer she had. “I simply do not know. If my father were here—”

  “Kathryn,” he said gently, “he is not.”

  She was still unsure.

  “What do you want? What does Kathryn Wyld, and no other, want?”

  That was easy.

  “I want you to kiss me again.”

  He groaned and pulled her head toward him, giving her what she asked for. His lips moved over hers as he tilted her head to the side. It was heaven, his kisses. And she never wanted them to end.

  When he pulled away, Kathryn expected to see the same regret in his expression she’d noticed each time, as if he was angry with himself for kissing someone in her station. Instead, he looked at her with a combination of desire and resolve.

  He emboldened her.

  “Bring them,” she said. “If you think it best.”

  He nodded, stepping back with a formal bow as if she were the queen of England and not a lowly serving girl he’d picked up from an inn.

  And then he was gone, leaving Kathryn to contemplate the choices that had led her so far astray from her plans.

  Nothing good would come of this, she was sure.

  Chapter 15

  “The timing is all wrong for any sort of confrontation,” Toren said.

  Neill agreed, but there was no help for it. It wa
s just before the midday meal, and he, Toren, and Bryce were making their way to the solar to meet the mistress of the castle, Lady Juliette, and Kathryn. That morning, he’d pulled the lord and lady aside to explain he needed their help. And although Bryce had scowled throughout his explanation, his brother had at least possessed enough sense to remain quiet.

  After they’d arranged where to meet and when, Lady Juliette had left to attend to “that poor woman.” Neill had spent the rest of the morning meeting with the other Englishmen in attendance, all of whom were anxious to hear firsthand about his interactions with the king prior to the larger council meeting with the Scottish wardens and border lords.

  The whole while, his mind had been fixed on Kathryn. Only now it appeared he might not have the help he’d counted on.

  “I can make some inquiries,” Toren continued, “but Bothwell is known for his neutrality. If Lady Kathryn had hoped to discern anything from him in a short discussion, I fear she would have been disappointed. None are privy to his thoughts, save the king.”

  Neill fell in behind Toren as they made their way to the second floor of the great keep. They could not see who might be waiting above them, so they all ceased talking for fear of potentially being overheard.

  Bryce fell in step beside him as soon as they reached the landing.

  “I told my brother as much, Toren. But it seems he takes his role as knight of the realm quite seriously.” Then, to him, he added, “You’re not bound to save every maiden in the kingdom, brother.”

  “Not all,” Neill said. “Just Kathryn. And I intend to help her, not save her. She can do quite well by herself.”

  Bryce stopped, and so Toren and Neill did so as well.

  “Kathryn?” Bryce asked.

  “Aye.”

  “Not Lady Kathryn or Mistress Kathryn?”

  Neill realized his mistake immediately, but he would not discuss this matter in front of Toren. “They’re waiting on us,” he prompted, and Toren, at least, took his meaning. After looking back and forth between the brothers, clearly not understanding the problem, the chief pushed open the door.

  Neill froze in the entranceway, but it wasn’t the large, well-lit chamber or colorful tapestries that caught his attention. Kathryn sat with Lady Juliette on the far side of the room. Moving toward her, he knew he had completely failed at his goal to conceal his feelings for her from Bryce.