Read The Price of Freedom Online

Authors: Carol Umberger

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The Price of Freedom (12 page)

Bruce ran his fingers through his hair. “No, I didn't abandon her. I cared for her just as I care, have always cared, for her son.”

Bryan didn't know what to say or where the conversation was leading.

“I have regrets, Bryan. But loving Elizabeth isn't one of them.” The king ceased pacing and sat back down in the chair facing Bryan, head bowed. “I regret that three of my four brothers have died in this struggle against England. I regret that I am nearly forty years old with my wife imprisoned.” Robert raised his head and looked at Bryan. “I regret Elizabeth and I have no son that I may acknowledge before the world as my rightful heir. Aye, that I regret deeply.”

Bryan took his father's hand and kissed the back of it. “You have been more than generous to me, my laird.”

The king grasped Bryan's fingers fleetingly and released them. “You don't aspire to take my place on the throne?”

“In truth, I've considered what it might be like.”

“But?”

“If you were to name me as your heir, or even simply acknowledge me, it would just create more instability and strife. Our current woes came about as a result of controversy over who should rule. Your brother Edward would rightly contest me. And you may yet have a son with your wife, my laird. I must consider what is best for Scotland.”

Bruce nodded in approval. “Well said. Then you are content that our relationship remain unspoken?”

“It is enough to have had this conversation with you. To be silently acknowledged by your family, as I always have been.”

The king smiled. “I am very pleased with the man you've become, Bryan. And while I may take some credit for it, 'tis your heart that has always been true. Please accept the earldom as a small measure of my esteem for you.”

“As you wish.” They sat in companionable silence. “But what of the woman?”

After a pause, the king said, “I'm sorry to ask you to go against a solemn pledge, but it is my wish that you wed the countess.” Robert fiddled with his wineglass, staring at the table. “When the shipment has passed safely across the river Tweed, you will desert Homelea and go to Stirling to prepare for battle.”

“You will leave Homelea defenseless.”

“I cannot spare the men or arms, Bryan. If you wish to keep Lady Kathryn safe, you will have to take her with you. Either that, or leave her there for Edward.”

“Edward and Rodney. What a tangle this turned out to be.”

“Bryan, I'm sorry. Lady Kathryn must either be protected or abandoned. Shall I look elsewhere for a husband for her?”

No other man shall have her. She is mine.
Surprised by the intensity of his reaction, and troubled by the impossible situation he was being forced into, Bryan willed his face to mask his feelings.

“No, Your Majesty. I will do as you ask.”

“Bryan, I can coerce you into marriage, but no one can force you to engage your emotions. Do you understand what I'm saying?”

“Aye.” A marriage of convenience—a chaste union until such time as he could give his heart freely. What Robert suggested allowed Bryan to keep both vows—he could protect Kathryn while remaining emotionally detached.

“I have sworn to protect her. If my name is needed as well as my sword, so be it.”

But how will I protect my heart?

SIX

T
HE CONFRONTATION IN THE STABLE had frightened Kathryn. Sir Bryan's size and strength spoke more eloquently than even his words. He could take what he wanted—indeed he
would
take what he wanted. She had been warned.

In despair, she sought out Fergus. Kathryn found him with Lachlan the Smith, who was trimming the hooves on one of the donkeys used to pull the wool carts to market. Lachlan's sullen expression and the donkey's loud braying did little to improve Kathryn's spirits. But Fergus's face lit up when he spied Kathryn, making her feel welcome and special as he always did. With a nod toward the noisy donkey he said, “Come, let us find a quieter spot.”

They walked toward the keep's entrance, and Fergus guided them toward Homelea's chapel, a small room on the second floor of the keep. The altar stood on the eastern wall, and soft morning light filtered through the stained glass window behind it, creating a rainbow on the polished stone floor.

The room was plain and simple, the only adornment being the embroidered cloth and a pair of pewter candlesticks on the altar. Homelea had no priest in residence since Father Munro's death six months ago. Services were held sporadically, whenever a traveling priest showed up. But castle residents came to the chapel each morning for prayers before breaking their fast.

Although they had no priest, Homelea's chapel did boast two rows of wooden benches, and Kathryn sat down on one of them. Fergus joined her and Kathryn asked, “What ails Lachlan? Seems he's in a sour mood every time I see him lately.”

“Lachlan isn't happy with the amount of time his wife spends as a nursemaid at the abbey.”

Alarmed by this revelation, she said, “Nelda has never mentioned anything to me. She seems content to earn extra coin this way, although she did ask why I'd taken such an interest in a foundling child.”

“Was she satisfied with yer explanation?”

“Aye, I think so.” No one had questioned her desire to retreat to St. Mary's after that disastrous confrontation with Rodney. Indeed, she'd gone there before she'd had any idea she carried his child and had simply remained in seclusion. Her heart and soul had truly been shaken and she'd used the time to right herself with God while she awaited Isobel's birth.

Fergus nodded. “How soon can Isobel be weaned?”

Although it was hard to believe so much time had passed, Isobel's first birthday was next week. Kathryn returned her thoughts to Fergus's question. “Isobel could drink from a cup if she had to.”

“It might be wise to release Nelda from her duties as soon as ye can, then.”

“Sir Bryan said I could go to the abbey in a few days.” Remembering their confrontation, she said, “Unless he changes his mind.”

“Is that all that's troubling ye this morning? Isobel?”

“No. I have been unwise.” She stood and paced the short distance across the room and back and as she did, she confessed to Fergus her conversation with the knight about their potential wedding, her dismissal, and his anger.

“Ye insulted him, Kathryn. Of course he'd be angry. Lucky for ye he is a man who can control his emotions.”

“Oh, he's very good at that. Anger is the only emotion I've seen him feel since he came here.”

Fergus looked at her acutely. “Then ye don't watch him closely enough.”

“Why would I watch him at all? Nothing he does interests me.”

Fergus smiled and quickly hid it. “But ye've seen him with the dogs and now with his horse, haven't ye?”

She didn't care to answer; to do so she might have to admit that, yes, she had observed the knight and her observations unsettled her.

“There is more to the Black Knight than meets the eye, Kathryn.”

“You are quick to defend him.”

“Aye, he has treated me as a man, not an injured pet.”

“How can you say such a thing?”

He stood up and faced her. “It's true, though I'm sorry to phrase it so bluntly.”

She stared at him, controlling her irritation at his accusation. Finally, realizing he was right, she said, “I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Fergus. 'Twas not my intent.” She sighed. “We aren't children anymore, are we?”

“No, those days are behind us, Kat. And we must also accept the fact that our country is at war. Homelea has been spared until now, but we're going to have to do our part if Scotland is to defeat her enemy.”

“You won't fight, will you? Please, tell me that you won't!” Her strident voice echoed in the small room.

He took her hands in his. “I may have no choice, Kathryn.”

“But I couldn't bear it if you were hurt again.”

“Perhaps it will ease ye to know that I'll be better prepared next time. Adam is teaching me sword play.” He moved away from her, left arm held up behind his head, right arm swishing an imaginary sword in the air between them. “Did ye know he was wounded at Dalry Pass?” He parried and stepped neatly aside, apparently dodging his opponent's thrust.

Kathryn hid a smile behind her hand.

“Nearly died. And he thought he'd never fight again but he learned new strategies. He's teaching me how to make up for my lack of vision—I may never be a great swordsman but,” he stabbed at her playfully, “he thinks I can become adept despite my injury. He's even teaching me how to use that to my advantage!” He crossed his chest with his imaginary weapon and bowed to her.

Kathryn clapped her hands and chuckled. “Well done!” She looked at him with new understanding. “You are happy, Fergus. For the first time since Rodney's blow to your eye, you are happy.” She stood and hugged him. “I didn't realize how difficult it must have been to be unsure if you could defend yourself.”

He sat down again and pulled her down beside him, taking her hand in his. “And ye, sister of my heart. To be helpless when ye need protection, it tears at me. But no more. Thanks to Adam and the Black Knight.”

“Ah, we are back to him.” She pulled her hands away from Fergus.

“I saw him leave Homelea in haste.”

“I told you he was very angry with me. Which is just as well. He should have no trouble persuading the king to free us from this marriage neither of us wants.”

Fergus looked thoughtful.

She didn't like what Fergus wasn't saying. “What? You think it is only I? I can assure you Sir Bryan is just as unhappy with the situation.”

“Perhaps so.” They sat in silence, the distant noises of the castle folk bustling about their work muffled by the stone walls. “Have ye prayed on this?”

Kathryn twisted her hands in her lap. “I fear the Lord isn't listening.”

“God always listens, Kat. Perhaps ye just can't hear the answer.”

“More likely I don't like the answer I hear.”

“Even if Bruce doesn't insist on the marriage, I sincerely doubt he'll take the earldom from Sir Bryan. Have ye thought of that?”

Kathryn rose to her feet and paced in agitation. “You are saying I have no real choice if I want to keep Homelea.”

“Aye.”

She stopped pacing as an idea came to her. “There is one possibility. I could send a messenger to Cousin Richard. Perhaps he could intercede on my behalf.”

“If I'd thought he could help I'd have suggested him when the knight was pounding at the gate. But Richard is not in favor with Bruce,” Fergus reminded her.

“Perhaps they've come to an agreement. Then Bruce might allow Richard to be my protector,” she said in desperation.

“Not very likely.”

She frowned.

“Aye, it's worth a try if ye are truly so set against marrying Sir Bryan.”

“I am. Oh, Fergus. Why are women treated like chattel, as if we have no feelings or . . . or the intelligence to handle our own affairs? Doesn't the Bible say we are all equal in Christ?”

“Equal before the Lord, Kat. Yes, we are all equal before him. But we each have earthly duties to perform the best we can. Even Sir Bryan has duties he must perform in obedience to his liege laird, whether he likes them or not.”

She grimaced. “I'm not sure that makes me feel any better, Fergus. Either he is marrying me for my inheritance or because it is his duty.”

“Ah, lass, ye were hoping to find love, weren't ye?”

“Aye. Love. Or at least mutual affection.”

“Come, Kathryn. Ye would have found little of either with Sir Rodney. Edward of England will come north and Carleton will come with him. Ye made your choice when ye yielded to Sir Bryan and Scotland's king. Be fully truthful with Sir Bryan. And see if love will bloom.”

“It will take a very special man to overlook what I've done, won't it?”

“Aye, it will.”

“And you think Black Bryan is such a man?”

“Only time will tell.”

“Perhaps. But I would still like you to send for Cousin Richard.”

“All right. But it will take some time. If the king insists on a wedding, ye're going to have to delay it as long as ye can.” They walked out of the chapel and down the steps. “Surely Sir Bryan has some redeeming qualities that ye could admire if ye tried.”

“You may judge for yourself. Thus far
I
have found none.”

KING ROBERT insisted on sending his priest with Bryan so the ceremony could be held without delay. Bryan returned to Homelea the next day resigned to the marriage. And mindful that Ceallach would arrive in a matter of days with the arms shipment. Bryan had sent word to Kathryn that the wedding would take place the next day. They must marry and prepare to leave within the week so that the inhabitants of Homelea could accompany Ceallach and the wagons north to Stirling.

Bryan asked for his evening meal to be served in the solar, which opened off the great hall at the end farthest from the kitchen. Apparently the old earl had used it as his office, for it boasted a large table and sturdy benches.

He pushed the food around his trencher with a knife as he considered his conversation with the king. A conversation with his father. How strange it seemed to freely think of Robert the Bruce as his father. He'd always known of the relationship, and nothing had really changed. Still, he was gratified at the man's admission and by his praise.

But the conversation had ended with Bryan's agreement to wed Lady Kathryn.

A shadow graced the doorway. “Would you care for some company, brother?”

“No.”

Adam walked in and sat down.

Evidently Adam's question was not a sincere request for information. Bryan smiled. He found it difficult to be angry in the man's presence.

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