The Price of Freedom (21 page)

The compliment caught her off guard. “Ah . . . thank you, Thomas.”

They rode northwest. The rain had stopped but the sun did not break through the clouds. Kathryn couldn't discern a trail, but Thomas seemed to know where he was going, so she pulled her head deep inside her hood and allowed her beast to follow. All she cared was that she was leaving England—and Rodney Carleton— far behind.

She tried not to think of how her life would have been if Bryan, Thomas, and the others had not risked their lives to remove her from Rodney's grasp. Or how this latest fight would fuel Rodney's hatred toward Bryan, and her.

Of even greater concern was Isobel. She didn't trust Rodney— he might very well accost the nuns at St. Mary's and steal Isobel away if he learned about the child. Now more than ever she was determined to bring the child under the Black Knight's protection.

After an hour of riding, three of Bryan's soldiers caught up to them. Calling a halt, they stopped at what appeared to be a prearranged rendezvous point. While the men busied themselves watering the horses and searching for wood dry enough for a fire, Kathryn watched the rest of her rescuers straggle into the camp in groups of two and three.

“Where is Sir Bryan?” she asked Thomas.

“He'll be along.”

Despite her worry for the knight's welfare, her mother's instinct cried out to know her child remained safe. She needed to see for herself that Isobel was all right, that Rodney or his men hadn't gotten to her yet. “Perhaps we should return to Homelea.”

“Our orders are to wait for everyone to arrive. There's safety in numbers, my lady.”

Though she chafed at the delay, Kathryn stayed busy tending to injuries, pausing in her work to study each of the new arrivals for the one face she was anxious to see. Kathryn feared Bryan had been seriously injured or captured. To keep her mind busy with other thoughts, she checked and rechecked bandages until Thomas gently said, “The lads are fine, my lady. Ye've done a good day's work. Do ye come and rest now.”

He led her to a seat by the feeble fire and brought her some bread and cheese. In the distance a horse whinnied and another, closer by, answered. Within a few minutes the last three men rode in. One of them was Bryan, uninjured, from the look of him.

And one of them was Fergus. Fergus? Fergus had taken part in her rescue? Fergus had no business fighting. She ran toward them, unsure whom to go to first. But old habits came easier and Fergus was barely dismounted before she flung herself at him. “What on earth were you doing, fighting like that? You could have been hurt.”

Fergus gently took her arms from his neck and stood back. “My lady. 'Tis good to see ye safe.”

Bryan walked up to them. Gratitude for his brave rescue forgotten in her fear for Fergus she said, “How could you make him fight when he has such poor vision? That is cruel beyond belief.”

Fergus now looked angry. “Kathryn, leave it be.”

Bryan's scowl should have warned her but she didn't heed him. Too late she remembered Fergus's comment about being treated like a pet.

“Leave the man alone. He is not a boy to be chastised for doing his duty, nor does he need your permission to follow his conscience.” He looked at Fergus. “You did well, today. See to your horse before we ride on.”

Fergus nodded in deference and said, “My laird.” And without another word he stalked toward the campfire.

She stood dumbfounded, watching his back as he moved away. Slowly she swiveled to face Sir Bryan, belatedly remembering her earlier anxiety for his well-being.

THE SIGHT OF KATHRYN safe among his men made Bryan forget how tired he was. But his eagerness to speak with her had cooled when Kathryn raced to Fergus and hugged him. They had all risked much to take her from Rodney Carleton, and Bryan's disappointment at failing to kill or capture the man cut deep.

He walked to the fire and Kathryn followed. Bryan was aware of Kathryn's puzzled gaze upon him as he asked Thomas, “Has everyone returned?”

“All accounted for, sir, with only minor wounds.” He gave a wry smile. “But none fretted over, excepting yerself.” He inclined his head in Kathryn's direction.

“Thank you, my friend.” So, she had worried about him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that, especially as she'd raced to greet Fergus and she had yet to inquire of Bryan's health.

“Get the men ready to mount up, Thomas. Carleton will come after us, you can be sure, just as soon as he gathers more men. I want to be safely behind the walls at Homelea by dark.”

“Aye, my laird.”

When Thomas was gone, Bryan took Kathryn's hand and drew her to face him. “Are you all right, Lady Kathryn? Did Rodney . . . hurt you?”

She blushed. “Nay, I am fine. And you?” She looked him over. “You are bleeding, sir.”

He looked down at the cut in his trews. “A bit.”

She took his hand and tugged at him. “Come, sit here while I tend the wound.”

“'Tis but a scratch, my lady.”

“Aye, and it needs tending.”

Gratified at her obvious concern, he did as she asked, taking a seat and giving her access to wash and bind the cut.

He shifted his weight, uncomfortable with her touch and his own fears. “I'm glad you were spared Rodney's company. I . . . was afraid for you, Kathryn.”

Her eyes grew round at his use of her given name. “And I feared for you.”

An awkward silence ensued. She didn't chastise him for his breach of etiquette but he would need to hold his emotions in closer check. He said, “I apologize for thinking you might have conspired to lure me into a trap.”

She finished tying the bandage and looked him in the eye. “'Tis understandable that you would consider it.” She smiled. “Thank you for rescuing me despite your reservations.”

He stood up and stepped away from her, but couldn't stop the grin that came to his face. “How could I not when you kept those flowers?”

Her face flushed a becoming shade of pink, and Bryan feared his heart had completely disregarded his head's warnings to remain emotionally detached.

“I'm sorry I disobeyed you. I truly didn't think there was any danger. Not to me, at any rate. I've had much time to think these past days, Sir Bryan. You bade me choose and I chose you because I feared Rodney more than I fear you.” She laid a hand on his arm. “That was not very flattering, but 'tis the plain truth.”

He said, “Ours is a strange relationship, is it not? Not friends, not lovers. But bound nonetheless until you are safe once and for all from Rodney.”

She paced away from him and then back. “Perhaps we should make this a real marriage, my laird.”

That was the last thing he'd expected her to say. Regardless of the appeal of her offer, he wasn't sure it was wise. The paleness of her face and nervous twisting of her hands gave proof she was not at ease with her own suggestion. “Why should we do this?”

“So that you may never doubt my loyalty again and so that I may be assured that Rodney can never claim Homelea through me.” She hesitated. “So that in this time of uncertainty we can have one thing that is sure and true.”

How he craved the very same things. But that long-kept vow at Carrick could not be so easily set aside, despite his growing affection for her. “I am deeply touched by your offer. But I need time . . . I cannot accept just yet.”

“You will consider it?”

“I will.”

She stepped close and kissed him on the mouth. He pulled her into his arms and returned the kiss. When it was over, they pulled apart and stared at each other.

She bowed her head and rubbed her hands down her skirt as if to put things back in place. But their relationship could not return to what it was before this kiss. “That was not wise,” he said gravely.

When she raised her head she was smiling, a sad little smile. “No, not wise at all.”

This couldn't be happening, not now. Not with all that lay at risk at Stirling. Not when he could least afford to cast aside his worries and be . . . a husband. When and if he finally gave his heart to her, he wanted forever, or at least a lifetime, and the odds were against them having it.

Fingers laced as if in prayer she said, “There is something I should have told you, must tell you before we risk another kiss.”

A twig snapped and they both jumped. She looked up and Bryan's squire stood nearby. “Sir, the men are ready.”

Bryan cleared his throat. “Thank you, Thomas. Have them mount up; we'll be there in a moment.”

“Aye, my laird.” Thomas walked away and they were alone once more.

“My laird, I must—”

“Hush.” Bryan pulled her into his arms, sheltering her head beneath his chin. “When we are safely home, we have much to talk about.”

“What I need to tell you can't wait much longer.”

He held her at arms' length and looked into her eyes. She seemed anxious and ill at ease. “We will be at Homelea soon. That is, if you can you manage a hard ride?”

With a sigh she said, “I can manage.”

“Then let's be off.”

ELEVEN

L
ATE AFTERNOON SUN washed Homelea with a warm glow as the weary travelers approached. Kathryn couldn't take her eyes from the view.
Home.
A beautiful sight, one she had despaired of seeing again. She made the sign of the cross and recited a silent prayer of thanksgiving for her safe homecoming and for the newly discovered affection between her and her husband.

Bryan rode beside her, and his page held aloft the colors of the Earl of Homelea. A loud cheer arose from the walls as the sentries recognized the pennant and ordered the portcullis raised. The clanging of the gate mixed with the cries of the castle occupants as they rushed to meet Bryan and Kathryn. Soon noise and joyful confusion surrounded them, and she slowed her horse as servants and men at arms alike surged toward her, touching her skirt or the horse's trappings.

“God be praised, my lady, for your safe return.”

“Our prayers are answered, Lady Kathryn.”

“God bless the earl for returning you to us.”

They surged so close, Kathryn was forced to halt her mount for fear of running someone over. Though she appreciated their eager welcome, she was anxious to talk to Bryan. Kathryn dreaded the telling but she would beg if she had to. She was convinced the child was no longer safe at St. Mary's. Bryan dismounted and made his way to her side, stopping several times to accept the thanks and praise of those crowded about him.

He raised his arms to help her get down from her horse. When his hands touched her waist, her people cheered anew, and Kathryn felt her face grow warm. He swung her to the ground and standing close, grinned down at her until her heart began to flutter. All around them her villeins cheered. Evidently they had accepted Bryan as their laird, as she did. Aye, after what he had risked to rescue her, she had been right to offer to make the marriage a true one. Now all that remained was to tell him of Isobel and convince him to raise her.

Her smile faded. How she dreaded the need to confess her lack of virtue to this man. Shame coursed through her and she had second thoughts about her offer, about her growing affection for him. And his slip in using her given name earlier today gave evidence that his feelings were becoming engaged as well. But he would not want a less than virtuous wife—she must resign herself to the very real possibility that they would end their marriage just as they'd agreed. But no matter what they decided about their relationship, someone must go to St. Mary's yet today; tomorrow might be too late.

In the crush of people, she and the knight became separated. Kathryn shook hands and accepted her people's joy at her return until her anxiety overcame courtesy and she pushed through the crowd, searching for Sir Bryan. Finally she saw him standing next to Adam and Anna. She hurried toward them. Anna held someone's squalling toddler over her shoulder. A girl child. “Isobel?” She looked from the child to Anna.

Anna nodded. “Men came to the abbey yesterday asking questions. The nuns feared for her safety, my lady.”

Isobel turned, and on seeing Kathryn, put her arms out to be held. Eagerly Kathryn took the child, kissing her and holding her tightly. “Oh, Isobel, Isobel!” Her worst fears were realized. Someone knew about Isobel and might tell Rodney at any time.

Sir Bryan's eyes narrowed in suspicion, moving from Kathryn to the child. “Is this babe the reason for your trip to the abbey?”

“Aye, my laird.” She didn't dare meet his gaze.

“Whose babe is she, that you would risk your life?” Sir Bryan demanded.

Laying her hand on the knight's arm she pleaded, “My laird, as you said earlier today, we have much to talk about.”

“Aye, that we do.”

“Then come. We will eat and I will . . . I will tell you about the child.”

He studied her for a moment, then the child, then nodded and strode away.

She reluctantly passed the baby to Anna and motioned her away from Adam. “Where is Nelda?”

As they walked toward the keep, Anna answered, “Her husband was found at the river crossing during the search for you. He's dead. Hit his head on a rock crossing the river.”

Kathryn stopped walking. “Oh no. How is Nelda taking the news?”

“She took it hard. Went to her mother in Berwick.”

Kathryn looked closely at Isobel. She seemed to be in good health. “Is Isobel weaned then?”

Anna huffed a breath. “She is now. Took to it well enough, don't fret.”

Kathryn longed to take Isobel back from Anna's arms and soothe her for this loss. But Kathryn suspected she was more upset than Isobel over Nelda's departure. And Bryan waited for her, for answers.

Kathryn kissed her daughter's cheek. “I'll help you get her ready for bed when I'm done talking with Sir Bryan.”

Anna nodded and Kathryn walked away wishing she could stay with Anna and the child instead of dealing with the man who awaited her in the solar. The door was ajar, and a servant carrying food and drink followed her into the room. After setting down the tray, the girl quietly closed the door as she left.