Feeling more in control, he faced her again but avoided looking directly at her. “Although our friends will no doubt grow tired of listening at the doorâ”
She gasped. “They are listening?”
“No doubt.” He sat on the edge of the bed. He made no move to touch her, but she did not relax her rigid grip on the blanket. “They'll leave soon, but come the morning they will look for . . . evidence . . . that the marriage was consummated.”
“Aye, they will.” Such was the custom and the only other explanation they could give would impugn Kathryn's virtue. “I will take care of it.”
“You know . . .?” his face grew warm.
She blushed as well. “I know enough.”
He reached for her hand and she shrank from his touch. “Have you been wronged in some way, my lady?” He saw her go pale and could hide his curiosity no longer. “Who has frightened you so?”
She turned away from him.
Gently he tugged her back to face him. “The day you yielded to me, Carleton hit you.”
She nodded.
Restraining his anger he asked as tenderly as he could, “What else did he do?” He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, but until he understood, he couldn't help her.
Her voice was calm. “While he was courting me, I gave him offense and angered him. He made to strike me and Fergus came to my rescue. Rodney hit him and injured his eye.”
Now he understood her defense of Fergus that first day. Silently cursing Rodney Carleton, Bryan said, “And do you think you will anger me somehow and be rewarded with the back of my hand?”
She studied him, perhaps weighing what she knew of him. “Nay, I think not.”
“I'm glad to hear you say that.” He took one of her hands in his. “'Twill be all right. He won't hurt you or yours again. Nor will I.” Bryan suspected there was more to her story, for why else would she be so unsettled? But now was not the time to find out. It could wait.
After a time, he sat back and watched her settle into the pillows once more. Having been so close to her, his warrior's body clamored for more of her womanly comfort. More softness. More affection. The respite and peace Robert had spoken of and that Bryan longed to experience.
Abruptly he stood to leave, but she grabbed his hand, nearly losing the blanket in the process. She let go of his hand and clutching the covers back in place she said, “I don't understand you at all, but I thank you. I didn't quite believe that you would honor our agreement.”
Her lack of trust pierced him.
Taking a deep breath to steady his emotions, he answered, “Why would I be other than honest with my wife?”
“But I am notâ”
“You are. You are my lawfully wedded wife, for the foreseeable future, and I will honor you as such.” Could he expect the same from her? She'd yielded to him to save herself from Rodney. Would she return to Edward's loyalty if given the chance? Knowing that demanding her loyalty would in no way ensure it, he forced a detachment he didn't truly feel and changed the subject. “I will make my bed in front of the fireplace. Good night.”
“Oh, no, my laird. You mustn't do that. This bed is hugeâ couldn't we share it?”
“I'm not experienced in these matters, my lady, but I suspect that would not be a good idea.”
Her expression was one of surprise and perhaps, disbelief. Her face flushed bright red. “Not experienced? Then you have never . . .?”
He shook his head. “Tonight is the first I've ever been in a lady's chamber other than my mother's.”
“Oh. I see. I suppose you're right,” she said. “But I do hate to see you sleep on the floor.”
“I'm a warriorâa hard bed won't be strange to me.” He looked at her, at the softness of her features, and knew this marriage had been a mistake. His heart was not going to survive it.
“Good night, Lady Kathryn.” He blew out the candles and settled into a pallet on the floor.
KATHRYN LAY IN THE DARKNESS listening to the Black Knight as he made himself comfortable. Guiltily she shifted onto her side on the soft mattress, knowing he'd been right. How foolish to suggest he sleep in the same bed. He had been entirely charming throughout the evening, charming and thoughtful. He hadn't even asked for another kiss.
What kind of man is he?
Certainly he was nothing like Rodney. Although she felt quivery in Black Bryan's presence, just as she had with Rodney, she did not feel pressured to give in. Of course, now she knew the consequences. But more than that. The knight had kept his promise. He was an honorable man. Someone she could depend upon.
She said a prayer of thanksgiving for her husband's thoughtfulness, for it gave rise to hopes he would understand. Her thoughts drifted to the abbey, and the small, blond-haired child who lived there.
Perhaps Sir Bryan would accept the child, for despite his reputation as a warrior, it was plain from his comportment this day that he had admirable qualities, just as Anna and Fergus had said. Was he, perhaps, the answer to her prayers after all?
No, this marriage could never be more than it was tonight. An honorable and virtuous man such as Sir Bryan wouldn't want Kathryn when he learned she had a child.
BY THE TIME KATHRYN SAT DOWN to break her fast two days after the wedding, the day was well under way and she had worked up the courage to ask Sir Bryan to take her to the abbey to fetch Isobel. She knew that the time they must leave for Stirling grew near. She would not go until she was sure the child would be safe at the abbey or if not, had been taken under the knight's protection.
She entered the great hall and walked to where Sir Bryan sat with Adam. Though the two men were deep in discussion, she sat across the table from them and wished them good morrow. Adam acknowledged her with a brief nod and the knight with his usual scowl.
This did not bode well for what she had to say to him. Perhaps she should choose another time. But as she ate the porridge a servant placed in front of her, Kathryn decided to wait until they'd finished their discussion and then she would ask him. If he agreed to take her, then she would find the courage to explain about Isobel. In any case, she was determined to visit the child to celebrate her birthday.
“Ceallach has not arrived with the . . . promised shipment,” Adam said, glancing warily at her.
“Aye, and I have no way of knowing if he's been successful in obtaining . . . what he was sent for or what is delaying him.”
“How much longer can we wait?”
“'Tis already the first week of June. I've begun preparations for our departureâwe can leave within a day or two of Ceallach's arrival.” Sir Bryan looked up at her and quickly away, obviously uncomfortable with her presence. What didn't he and Adam want her to know? Perhaps she wasn't the only one with secrets.
“Shall I send a messenger to look for him?”
Sir Bryan hesitated. “Nay, let's give him another day.”
Adam nodded and, having finished his meal, left the table. Sir Bryan rose to follow but Kathryn said, “If you have a moment, I need to speak with you on a matter of importance.”
His scowl deepened and seeing his reluctance made her cross.
But she held back her animosity and said, “I need to go to the abbey.”
“I don't have time to take you. It will have to wait.”
She stared at him. “Then Fergus can accompany me,” she said reasonably. If he wouldn't go with her, she and Fergus could fetch the child.
“Fergus isn't your husband, I am.” In name only, which she suspected made all the difference this morning. Apparently Sir Bryan chafed to be gone, to be released from sleeping on the floor in Kathryn's chamber in order to keep their sham marriage a secret. She didn't blame him, but he needn't be so churlish about it. How could she tell him why she wanted to go to the abbey when he was so obviously out of sorts?
Her voice took on an edge. “Fergus is perfectly capable of accompanying me. He's done so in the past.”
“Well, now I am responsible for you and I say you shall wait until I can take you.”
“You promised.”
“Let it rest.”
“It is important that I go or I wouldn't askâ”
“I said no. Not until I can accompany you.” He rose to leave and she stood as well.
“You are being unreasonable.”
“Try to be an obedient wife, Lady Kathryn,” he nearly shouted.
They were interrupted when Anna approached. She didn't let the knight's obvious temper deter her. She said, “As eldest woman, 'twas my duty to inspect the marriage bed.” She spoke loud enough so others could hear.
Kathryn's face grew hot as Bryan asked impatiently, “And have you done so?”
“Aye, my laird. Each morning. Today it appears the marriage is legal.” Anna gazed piercingly at Kathryn.
When Anna had retreated, Sir Bryan said quietly, for Kathryn's ears alone, “What is she talking about?”
“There is no need to fear. I stubbed my toe this morning and broke the skin, so I . . . I dabbed the injury with the sheet.”
“I want no evidence to be used against us when the time comes to part, for that is still my intent.” He paused, as if allowing his words to take their mark. “Burn those cursed sheets.”
She stared at him, angry and hurt. “Fine.” Barely keeping her anger in check she said, “Answer me one thing. Will the nuns be safe at the abbey when the English come through on their way to Stirling?”
“Certainly. They can bar the gate. Even Edward isn't so depraved he would allow his army to break in and molest servants of God.”
But Rodney might, if he learned about Isobel. With that thought, her course was set. Isobel would be safer with Kathryn and the knight.
“When will you accompany me to the abbey?”
He huffed a breath in exasperation. “
If
there is time, I will take you to say your good-byes before we leave. I can promise no more than that.” With a brusque “Good day” he stalked off toward the lists.
KATHRYN SPENT THE DAY IN THE GARDEN, weeding and cultivating the vegetables that provided welcome variety to their diet after the long winter. The sun was unusually warm and made for a fine day to spend in one of her favorite pastimes. And the repetitive work helped soothe her after her argument with Sir Bryan. Somehow she would find a way to see Isobel for her birthday, despite the knight's heavy hand.
By late afternoon, satisfied with her work, Kathryn dismissed her helpers and walked the short distance to the small rose garden, sheltered in the southwest corner of the garden. It was too early for them to bloom though some of the earliest had buds that already showed color. She smiled as she envisioned what it would look like here in another week.
Years ago her father had built a stone bench in the middle of the roses. In her childhood Kathryn had sat there with her mother, learning how to care for these beautiful plants. Kathryn rested on the bench now, remembering those early years. Her mother had been regarded as a true beauty, of both countenance and spirit. Sadly, Kathryn realized she couldn't remember her mother's face. But she did remember sitting on this very bench with Rodney Carleton and falling for his charms. If her mother had lived, would she have taught Kathryn to know her heart, to resist a deceiver such as Rodney?
What would her mother have thought of the man Kathryn had married? Kathryn was at a loss to know how she felt about him. After his tirade this morning, she looked forward to the end of their disagreeable union. He was difficult and demanding and . . . altogether charming when he chose to be. He'd been decidedly irritable and less than charming this morning!
With or without his permission, she would visit St. Mary's. She wanted to celebrate the first anniversary of Isobel's birth with the nuns and then bring her to Homelea. If he hadn't been so stubborn this morning, she'd have told him then. The snapping of a twig startled her. She jumped up and spun about to see who intruded.
Black Bryan halted. “I'm sorry if I frightened you.”
Heart pounding with a combination of fright and guilt, she said, “No. Yes. I was . . . rather lost in thought.”
He gestured with his hand. “This is a pretty spot. May I join you?”
She hesitated, troubled by the need to talk to him about the child but unwilling to confront him yet again today. Glancing at her work-stained clothes and his dusty clothing, she said, “We are both in need of some water and clean clothes, so we can hardly offend one another in that regard.”
“No, and with some effort, perhaps we can converse without offending in some other manner.” His face conveyed no clue as to his feelings, and she resented his ability to keep his emotions so well hidden. How was she to deal with him when he could shut her out so effectively?
Sir Bryan followed her as she walked about in the early evening light, asking her about the different varieties of roses. “Do you have a favorite?” he asked.
“Yes, the white ones. They were my mother's favorites, too.”
In a voice filled with genuine concern, he asked, “Were you very young when she died?”
“Four.”
“'Tis difficult, losing your mother so young.” At the unexpected wistful quality in his voice, she raised an eyebrow in question.
“I was twelve. Not so young, but it was still hard.” He looked away, hiding feelings she sensed he rarely allowed others to witness.
Touched by his sharing of something so private, Kathryn hesitated to question him more. But curiosity won out and she asked, “Do you remember her?”
“Aye. Some.” Apparently ready to change the subject, he reached out and touched one of the buds. “Isn't the white rose the symbol of the Virgin Mary?”
She looked up at him, and her face must have betrayed her surprise.
His expression darkened. “Just because I was raised in the highlands doesn't mean I am a heathen.”
She felt herself blush. “I never . . .”
I never said as much but I
certainly thought it
. “I've never seen you in the chapel.”