The Knight's Reward (Border Series Book 10)

by Cecelia Mecca

  Kathryn had heard rumblings of this but did not know the full story.

  “The marriage had been sanctioned by King Henry, so when a reiver came to Kenshire at my late father’s bequest to help protect me . . .” She shrugged. “The situation seemed impossible when I fell in love with that very same reiver.”

  A mother who’d died in childbirth. A father who died too soon. An unwanted betrothal.

  Despite their different circumstances, she and Sara did indeed have much in common.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  Sara sat back, contemplating the situation. “Do you believe in fate?”

  The question took her aback.

  “I . . . I am not sure,” she admitted.

  “Rota Fortunae.” Sara smiled. “I believe Fortuna can be influenced, but I do believe in her power. I’m convinced she brought you here. To Kenshire.”

  Kathryn was not as sure. “I agree the similarities between us are striking.”

  “As our outcomes will be.”

  If only that were possible. “If Neill does not marry her, the king will not remove Caxton. And if Caxton is not removed as warden—”

  “No Day of Truce. No peace. Increased violence. Possible war with Scotland. Aye. I know it all well.”

  Kathryn stared at her. “That cannot be.”

  “Nor will it be.”

  The countess’s certainty was such that it made her hope.

  “Even without his obligation,” she forced herself to say, “I am not in a position to marry.”

  That she was even speaking about such a thing with the Countess of Kenshire, Neill’s sister-in-law, seemed preposterous. Kathryn shook her head.

  “This is a setback, to be sure. But mark my words, Kathryn. Only a fool could not see what is between you and Neill. And I’ve learned much these past years. Love, my dear, is more powerful than hate.”

  “We are not . . .” She swallowed. “We are not in love.”

  Sara looked pointedly at her.

  “Are you certain of that?”

  No, she was not certain at all, but she didn’t dare contemplate such a thing, not when the prospects were so dim for a happy outcome.

  “Describe my brother-in-law to me?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Describe him. As you’d do if he were a stranger to me.”

  Kathryn could not help but smile as she imagined him standing before them now.

  “He is handsome, to be sure.”

  “He is a Waryn.” Sara finished her meal as Kathryn continued to consider the words she’d use to describe the man who’d come into her life a few weeks ago.

  “And loyal. The night we met he’d come to my defense against a Scotsman at the inn.” A king, she added silently, he had no love for. “And kind, of course. Not many men would have escorted me north without knowing why I needed to go there, but he didn’t require much convincing. I didn’t even have my own mount . . . I kept pushing him away, and yet he was always there when I needed him. Offering me support.”

  She thought of every time he’d grabbed her hand. Of that first kiss. Of last night.

  “And . . .” She couldn’t find the words. Or wasn’t willing to share them.

  “You can keep those thoughts to yourself.” Sara smiled. “For now.”

  “You think Neill and I can find a way to be together despite the king’s decree?”

  “Aye.”

  It was foolish. Absurd. The very idea.

  And yet, if Sara believed it with such conviction, maybe she could too?

  “This,” a familiar voice boomed, “looks dangerous.”

  Kathryn spun toward the sound, not having seen him enter. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears at the sight of him striding toward her, all confidence and determination. She couldn’t help but wonder at his purpose this morn.

  And how she had not realized earlier that Sara’s assessment were true.

  She had done the most foolish thing a woman in her circumstances could do—she’d fallen in love with Neill Waryn.

  Neill exchanged glances with Geoffrey, who knew what he was about to do. His brother did not agree with his decision, but neither would he stop him.

  “This is the impetuous boy of our youth,” he’d said. “You would undo all you’d fought for. Jeopardize everything.”

  While Geoffrey was still dressed from training, Neill had changed before coming to the hall. But his brother had insisted on going down to the hall with him. Likely to give him angry looks in the hopes he’d desist from “his folly.”

  He hadn’t hesitated to remind Geoffrey of the unique circumstances of his own marriage to Sara. Indeed, each of their siblings had wed under strained circumstances.

  Geoffrey had merely harrumphed at that, but as they walked toward the dais, Neill knew he was making the right decision. He’d thought of little else since leaving Kathryn’s chamber.

  He’d thought of little else since the day she’d begged him to take her away from The Wild Boar.

  “Good morn, gentlemen.”

  When his brother placed a kiss on Sara’s hand, Neill looked at him pointedly as if to remind him of the reason for his own resolve.

  Geoffrey merely scowled at him—a fit of pique Neill ignored as he stepped up to the woman who had kept him from sleep. She looked lovely that morning in a pale yellow gown. Simple but beautiful, like the woman who wore it.

  “Good morn, my lady.”

  “And to you.”

  He offered a hand. “I thought perhaps you might enjoy a tour of the castle?”

  Kathryn hesitated, glancing back at Sara. An interesting development. Yesterday, they’d been friendly with each other, exceedingly so. Today there was something . . . conspiratorial . . . about their exchange.

  “I would very much enjoy that.”

  She stood, and Neill backed away to allow her to step down from the dais.

  “Be sure to show her the Sea Gate.”

  If such a thing were possible, Geoffrey’s scowl deepened at Sara’s words. The countess still supported their cause, knowing, as she did, about Lady Alina.

  “A fine idea, thank you, Sara.”

  They left the hall together. Although he had planned to take Kathryn on a tour—his invitation not merely an excuse to get her alone—Sara’s idea gave him pause. Aye, they would go to the Sea Gate straightaway.

  “Shall we start with Sara’s suggestion?”

  “If it pleases you.”

  He tried not to smile at her unexpected shyness. Kathryn was as bold a maid as ever he’d met, yet this morning she looked away.

  Neill had only stayed at Kenshire a short time before being sent to Langford, but he knew it well enough to navigate them through the hall to a door tucked away at the end of a long corridor. Opening it, he gestured for Kathryn to step ahead.

  They navigated the dark and increasingly damp passageway to another door that looked as if it had not been often used.

  “Mind your step,” he said, the stone stairs descending downward in a spiral. Darkness enveloped them. Feeling their way down, they finally came to yet another door, which Neill pushed open with one of the keys he’d retrieved from Peter, Kenshire’s steward, for their tour.

  Immediately, the scent of sand and sea assaulted them.

  A final path, one covered with saw grass that required them to walk single file. When they finally emerged, the reward was immediate.

  “Oh my!”

  Waves crashed on the shore in front of them as they made their way toward the water.

  “Wait,” he said, leaning down to remove his boots. Unsurprisingly, Kathryn took one look at him and did the same.

  He laughed as they both tossed their boots aside, feeling the same giddy eagerness. Thankfully, all signs of the pain he’d caused with his confession were gone.

  Although life would no doubt bring them highs and lows, as it did for everyone, Neill intended never to wound her again.

  With that thought in mind, he grabbed her wa
ist from behind. Pulling her toward him, he claimed her lips. She opened for him, giving him what he asked for.

  Grasping her head and ensuring he had full access to her mouth, he greedily tasted and teased, his tongue tangling with hers. Her moans made him hard in an instant.

  When she held back, this woman was irresistible. But when she acted with abandon?

  He groaned, taking her more deeply. His hand moved to her breast, and he squeezed it gently, wishing away the barrier between them.

  Not caring about the guards that could surely see them from above, Neill drank from the sweetness that was Kathryn Wyld until he knew a kiss would no longer suffice.

  He pulled back, and then nearly reached for her again when he saw her heaving shoulders, her swollen lips. Kathryn no longer shied away. Unapologetic, she stared back at him.

  “We must talk,” she said.

  “Aye,” he agreed. “’Twas my aim.”

  Taking her hand, Neill led them, barefoot, toward the sea. Inhaling deeply, he allowed the serenity of the peaceful place to envelop them both. When they were so close to the water that a few more steps would see their feet wet, he stopped.

  And turned, bringing her with him.

  Neill watched her face as Kathryn took in the view above them.

  Kenshire Castle.

  “Magnificent.”

  “Aye, as beautiful as any I’ve ever seen. And not just beautiful. But strong. And courageous.”

  She gasped and turned to look at him.

  “Passionate. Kind. Resourceful. A woman to make a man forget his obligations.”

  “Neill—”

  “Nay, let me finish.”

  Putting Geoffrey’s admonitions out of his mind, he forged ahead.

  “I am sorry for keeping the king’s condition from you. For hurting you, even for a short while.”

  As his toes dug into the sand, so too did he bind himself to this decision.

  “Until we came to Kenshire, I thought little of accepting his request. For years I’ve trained, and fought, for a single purpose. To make my brothers proud. To make Adam and Cora proud. To achieve enough to rid myself of the moniker I so hated as a lad, ‘the young Waryn.’ And I did all of that. Every win led to that final tournament, when I was presented with the opportunity to aid my king, my country. My family.”

  He took her hands in his.

  “But then I learned of your plight. And with God as my witness, I promised then and do so now, the man who killed your father will see justice served. The rage I felt at the thought of you making your way to The Wild Boar alone as you mourned your father . . . I felt that again, last eve.”

  Kathryn’s brows drew together in question.

  “I could not bear the thought of you marrying another man.” He shook his head. “I cannot allow that to happen.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “You will be with one man in this lifetime, Kathryn Wyld, and that man is me.”

  He did not mean for the words to come out so forcefully, but he was as convinced of this as he was that, somehow, they could find a way to pacify the king.

  “Do I have a say in the matter?”

  Nay. She didn’t. Not if she loved him the same way he loved her. But Neill knew that was not the answer for which she waited.

  “Aye,” he lied.

  “The implications are vast.”

  “Indeed.”

  “You are risking everything.”

  “I am.”

  “For me.”

  “For love.”

  He’d never said those words to a woman before, and he was determined she’d be the only woman to ever hear them from him.

  “I love you,” he repeated, “more than my own life.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “And I love you.”

  They stood there, hand in hand, declarations made and accepted.

  But the moment was tainted by Geoffrey’s words running through his head.

  Do not do this, brother. At least consider it more carefully. Once you declare for her, there is no way to take the words back.

  But it was done.

  Neill was now pledged to two women.

  One he’d never met.

  The other he loved.

  And though Adam had always told him confidence was almost as imperative as the skill required to be crowned champion, for the first time in a long while, he was unsure if this was a contest he could win.

  Chapter 22

  It had been the most glorious week of his life.

  Neill had spent the mornings avoiding his brother’s lectures, if not the man himself. The afternoons, with Kathryn. He learned more about her unusual upbringing, which had forged her into the woman that he now adored. It was no wonder that she had been so unconvincing as a serving maid.

  She told him of the times she’d been kissed. And of the time one of the king’s men had attempted to take that which she had no interest in giving. Her father had arrived just in time to protect her, but he’d insisted that she be trained to use the dagger as skillfully as any man. He knew the claim was an honest one, for he’d put her skills to test in the training yard.

  Her aim was true.

  Her resolve, even truer.

  They spoke of ways to pacify the king, one idea being replaced by another. They had an ally in Lady Sara, who disagreed with her husband, who maintained that Neill had made a terrible mistake. But even she admitted the king’s ire would be unavoidable.

  After years of relentless training, competing, proving himself . . . he now faced the most important battle of his life, and it would not take place on any training field.

  “Deep in thought, brother?”

  He and Geoffrey had ridden out to inspect a new building, a granary that had been commissioned some time ago. As they approached the barbican, returning to Kenshire Castle, his brother slowed and Neill knew his respite from Geoffrey’s lectures had come to an end.

  “Aye,” he answered, waiting for it.

  “You play a dangerous game with Lady Kathryn.”

  As he’d expected. “’Tis no game, brother. As well you know.”

  “What, then, is your plan?”

  Neill’s silence was his answer.

  “You have no plan. The king is unpredictable.”

  “Aye.”

  “His temper, more legendary than your tournament reputation.”

  “Aye.” He knew it well. Once, at court, though he’d not seen it for himself, the king had received unwelcome news from his French emissary smashing a Roman flask dating back to 100 AD.

  “What then?”

  They rode through the entrance, the guards raising their sword arms to his brother. His brother made a fine earl. Everywhere they went the people of Kenshire welcomed him, offering him the same respect and deference Neill had given Geoffrey their whole lives.

  Thankfully, riders from behind interrupted Geoffrey’s interrogation. Two of them, neither bearing colors that would identify them. Both he and his brother dismounted, having reached the inner courtyard, and the riders did the same.

  One of them, Neill recognized at once.

  “Reid Kerr,” he said, approaching the man.

  Toren’s brother extended his hand, and Neill took it. When last the two had met, they’d been enemies. No longer.

  “There are few my brother trusted with the message we bring. One best told in private.”

  “Come,” Geoffrey said at once, gesturing to the keep. Neill felt the same tingle of anticipation he always experienced before a tourney. The Kerr brother had news of Bothwell. He must.

  “I will meet you in the hall,” Reid said to his companion, who left them.

  Following Geoffrey and Reid into the great keep, he realized his brother was taking them to the room he’d spied near the entranceway, a rare private space on the same floor as the great hall. No windows graced the circular stone chamber, though two wall torches lit the space. It was empty but for a bench, two chairs, and what appeared to be an ab
andoned altar.

  “That door . . . ,” he said, spying what seemed like one of many secret passageways hidden inside the ancient castle.

  “Leads to the chapel. The priest uses this space, but none other.” Geoffrey stopped and added, “You may speak freely here.”

  “Bothwell was followed,” Reid said, offering no preliminaries, “and it went as expected. Though he stayed at Brockburg for the remainder of the day, one of his men left immediately after you did.”

  “For Edinburgh,” Neill offered.

  “Aye. And Bothwell himself followed the next day. He was questioned about his early departure, of course, but he only said he had enough information for the king.”

  Geoffrey grunted. “He panicked.”

  “He did.”

  Reid paced the length of the small chamber.

  “Luckily, the person who went after him has enough connections to gain access to court, though how close he’ll get to Bothwell and the king remains to be seen.”

  “Who went after him?” Neill asked.

  “My brother Alex. We arrived at Brockburg just after you left for Kenshire. We both agree with Toren—if Bothwell is guilty of what we suspect, he could stand in the way of all we seek to achieve. Including the deal with your king.”

  “I’m going to Edinburgh.” Neill had been considering it for the past few days, but now it would seem he had no choice. Although they did not have much evidence as of yet, it seemed likely Bothwell had indeed turned on Kathryn’s father. He was likely aligned with those attempting to take advantage of the instability along the border.

  “I will go with you,” Reid said. “Restoring the peace is of the utmost importance.”

  “You will stay, to protect Kathryn?” Neill asked his brother.

  Geoffrey looked at him as their father once had, as if he was not sure whether or not he could be trusted. This rift between him and his brother, Neill had not expected it. And he hated it. But until Geoffrey relented on the matter of Kathryn and his obligation to the king, there was nothing that could be done about it.

  “I will,” he said finally as Reid glanced back and forth between them.