Knight Defender (Knight Chronicles) Read online

  A few moments later, he rose to follow his betrothed.

  The stable door was ajar and he slipped through, pausing to let his sight adjust to the lantern light. He saw the two women kneeling in the straw together over something that lay on the ground.

  “Will he be all right?” Artis asked.

  “Aye,” Jessamyn said. “See, he’s coming around now.”

  “Arrggh, me head.”

  The moaning voice sounded like Angus. What was wrong with his master of horse?

  “Do you think you can sit?” Jessamyn asked.

  “Aye. I’ll no let that randy stallion get the best of me.”

  Between them, Jessamyn and Artis helped the old man to a bench. He groaned again and leaned back against the wooden wall.

  “Rest for a while. Artis and I will manage the stallion and Persia.”

  Angus began to speak while Raeb halted in the shadows. Jessamyn had spent much time in the stables, but there had been no time to question Angus about what she did or what the master of horse thought of her. Hearing what his horse master had to say without knowing his baron was present was among the best ways to learn the answers.

  “I know ye can do it, my ladies, but wait a bit and let the steed calm some.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Artis said.

  “’Tis sorry I am, Lady Jessamyn,” Angus apologized. “I dinna ken how Aingeal-ceo and yer sweet Persia both got out of their stalls. From the look and smell of things, he’d covered her at least once before I got here and was setting up for another go. I used a whip to frighten him off long enough to get hold of th’ mare’s bridle then lead her out to one of the enclosures. I banged the doors shut on that beast’s nose the moment her tail cleared the entry.”

  “She did not object?” Artis asked.

  “She wasna happy wi’ me, but that mare’s well mannered and verra well trained. ’Tis a credit to th’ Du Grace master of horse.”

  “I’m sure he’d be flattered at the compliment, but he had no hand in Persia’s training.”

  “Whoever trained her, he’s almost as guid as I am.”

  “Why, thank you, Angus. I’m honored.”

  “Ye’re the one who trained that wee beastie?”

  “Aye, and a number of my father’s other horses. Be quiet now and hold that compress on your head. Artis and I have work to do.”

  Jessamyn trained horses? ’Twas one more unexpected virtue Raeb could lay at her door. Kindness to animals, servants, and his sisters. A determined manner that bespoke an inner strength he had to admire. She had her flaws but was as close to a perfect wife as he ever thought to get. Perhaps he should marry her. ’Twould make keeping her dowry all the sweeter. But how would the woman feel when her husband of less than a month attacked her godfather’s ships? Marriage to Edward’s goddaughter was marriage to a threat. Even if he loved her, which he didn’t, he couldn’t bring such a hazard into his home and family. ’Twas a shame.

  He waited, watching as his tall betrothed and tiny Artis cajoled Aingeal-ceo back into his stall. By the time they finished, they discovered Angus had fallen asleep.

  “Let him rest,” Jessamyn said. “We can have Maeve check on him tomorrow.”

  “Do you think we should bring Persia back in?” his sister asked.

  “No. That stallion’s had a taste of her and could well kick out the stall door trying to get at her. He might hurt himself. Is there somewhere else we could put her for a few days, until she is no longer in season?”

  “Oh yes, the foaling barn. ’Tis small and needs cleaning, but she should be fine tonight. The stable lads can clean it tomorrow when you take Persia for your daily ride.”

  “Excellent. I’ll go get her.”

  “The barn is on the other side of the enclosure where she is now.” Artis eyed the stallion. “’Twould be best if you led her there by the outdoor path.”

  “Good idea.” Jessamyn nodded and took one of the lanterns.

  “I’ll wake Angus and help him to his rooms then return to the keep.”

  “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

  “Aye, tomorrow.”

  Soon only Angus’s snores and the shifting of horses filled the silence. But Artis stood still in the middle of the area between stalls.

  “You can come out now, Raeb.”

  “How did you ken I was here?”

  She shrugged. “How do I ken any of the things a body wouldna normally ken? It just comes to me.”

  “Does it come to you what kind of marriage I’ll have with Jess?” he teased.

  “I dinna need any special knowledge to ken that. But since the woman doesna want to marry, ’tis unlikely you’ll have any kind of marriage at all with her.”

  “She doesna wish to marry at all, or just me?”

  Artis shrugged. “I only ken what Maeve repeated to me. She said Lady Jessamyn refused to be sold like cattle, and marriage would destroy her lifelong wish to breed horses for the good sisters of St. Bartholomew’s convent in York.”

  “’Tis useful to know her thoughts.”

  “Aye, though what kind of use you’ll make of it remains to be seen. Now let us wake Angus and get him settled for the night.”

  Later, after Artis had bid him goodnight, Raeb stood outside the stables, staring at the stars. What would the next few weeks bring? With luck and careful preparation, Dungarob and the MacKai fortunes would be mended before autumn. Lady Jessamyn Du Grace would be a distant memory. He could set about seeing his sisters wed and mayhap even seek a bride himself. The prospect should have brought him contentment, if not joy.

  Instead, he felt a looming sense of disaster.

  • • •

  Jessamyn returned to her room to find Margery all aflutter.

  “Such good news, my lady. A ship is at anchor in the harbor and will dock tomorrow morning. One of the watchers from the keep’s tower came into the kitchens as we servants finished our meal. He sent a housemaid to bring word to Baron MacKai. Much excitement and talk ensued of what the ship might bring.”

  “That is good news indeed.” Confused by the dart of dismay she felt, Jessamyn turned to the window. “We’ll be leaving here within days. Mayhap as soon as tomorrow.”

  The maid’s excitement was infectious, but a tiny part of Jessamyn wished she had more time. Wished she could say farewell and not have to sneak away in the dark. “While the keep is busy welcoming the vessel is the perfect time to complete our preparations.” She faced Margery. “Pack as quickly and lightly as you can. Then you must discover how long the ship will be in the harbor. We will make our escape the night before it departs.”

  The maid still smiled but her lips trembled. “’Tis glad I will be to return home, but I am still fearful something will interfere with this plan.”

  Jessamyn laid her arm around the woman’s shoulders. “Have faith, Margery. We have considered every eventuality. If we behave as we usually do, none can suspect.”

  Margery gulped and nodded. “Aye, then I’d best prepare you for bed as usual.”

  “First return to the kitchens and find some food for me. I had to leave my dinner early to help with a problem in the stables.”

  “Hmph. Were we staying, I would have words with the baron about his care of you. He should tend his stables himself.” Margery flounced to the door and left.

  Jessamyn smiled. Who would come out the worse in that encounter? Margery had not forgiven Raeb MacKai’s callous treatment on the day they arrived here. The maid might be full of fears, but she never let them stop her from speaking her mind.

  Later, Jessamyn sat picking at her cold meal, and stared into the shadows cast by the fire. Like Margery, she would be pleased to give the man a healthy piece of her mind, but his physical presence distracted her too easily. She must be stronger and resist Raeb MacKai’s dangerous allure until she made good her escape. Weary, she finished the food and went to bed.

  Every time her eyes drifted shut she felt the press of Raeb MacKai’s lips on hers. Th
e bedclothes transformed into the tunic that covered his hard torso. Her fingertips burned with the remembered heat of his skin, and every breath filled her mind and body with his scent.

  Impatient with herself, she tossed and turned. How could she be so susceptible to the man? Yes, he cared for his sisters and his people. He even respected his siblings enough to ask their help. However, he rarely hesitated to order everyone about to suit his least whim. The woman who was foolish enough to wed Baron Raeb MacKai would find herself bound to a beguiling autocrat whose devious tactics could sap a woman’s dreams. That was not what Jessamyn wanted for herself. Or was it? If Raeb crept into her room, her bed, would she cry for help or would she welcome him with open arms?

  Toward dawn, Jessamyn finally gave up her fight against wakefulness and rose to dress for riding. She would leave a note for Margery then visit the kitchen for bread and cheese to take with her. After last night’s adventures, she hoped the mare would be as glad as her rider for a spirit-lifting run.

  Taking the long way around, Jessamyn found herself halting at the point where the path split down to the Selkie’s Grave or up toward the forest. She and Persia were both pleasantly tired. The mare munched on a bag of oats Jessamyn had brought while she nibbled on the food from the kitchens.

  With the tide out, she considered exploring the cave below, but she’d brought no torch with her and the idea of wandering in the dark did not appeal. She could easily become lost and perhaps drown if the cave did not go far enough back for one to avoid the rising waters of a new tide.

  The morning was well advanced; she could return to the keep. However, she did not wish to go back yet. Out here she felt free from all demands. Her confusion over Raeb was a distant matter, as was her ambition to join the convent. If she lingered, she would be missed at the keep. She had food enough for herself and Persia to avoid hunger until well into the afternoon. She would take what time she needed to secure contentment, so she could return prepared to do what she must to be aboard that ship when it left.

  Hoofbeats approaching from behind drew her attention. She turned in the saddle, and her breath stopped. Raeb, mounted on the dappled courser, rode toward her. How could a man be so beautiful when he wasn’t even truly handsome? He was the most male animal she’d ever encountered, and to her regret she could not be indifferent to him. From the first, his presence caused her heart to race. She would not have to endure this much longer she told herself, as he came to a stop beside her and Persia.

  “You left the keep very early this morning. I came to be sure of your safety and to tell you that a ship docked in Dungarob harbor on the morning tide.”

  “I saw the ship as I left.”

  “Why did you leave?” His voice was low and dark. His gaze captured her.

  “I was restless,” she said, unable to look away. “I thought to spend the day exploring.”

  “I understand the wish to see the MacKai holding, but you shouldna have ridden out alone. This close to the keep you need no fear raiders, but wolves and other creatures are no so discreet.”

  Was he a predator she should fear? She knew him to be a dangerous man, but one who did not attack rashly unless angered beyond reason. She nodded. “You are right, but the day is so fine, I could not persuade myself to return to walls and people.”

  He held out his hand. “Come, I will show you some of my favorite places.”

  Though the gesture surprised her, she took his hand and they walked their mounts in tandem toward the forest. He led her toward the stream where they’d found Maeve and Dougal, and the terrain forced her to drop his hand.

  Incredibly, her attitude toward Raeb MacKai was changing. Had she seen him as crude on their first meeting because she’d wanted to? To be honest, he could be mule-headed. But had he truly been the jackass, or had it all been pretense, just as she had intended false distain? No. One could not discount the neglect and ill manners he’d used toward his betrothed on her arrival, but that behavior did not match the man she’d seen over the last few days. Which was the true man, and how did she feel about him?

  She tried and failed to find calm in the storm of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Neither Raeb’s true character nor her feelings mattered. She knew what she wanted—a peaceful life of charity breeding and training horses for the nuns. To get that, she would leave Dungarob keep and Raeb MacKai very soon. Once she arrived in St. Bartholomew’s and started her new life, the irritating, confusing Scot would be forgotten and no longer hers to worry about. She would not miss him when she left or wish for more than a future of good works.

  As they rode upstream the forest thinned and the ground sloped. At the bottom of a low slope, they found themselves at one end of a broad glen bisected by the stream. Fortunately, the stallion was being well behaved—either that or Persia was no longer in season—so the ride was easy and relaxing.

  “At the other end of this glen the ground falls away sharply, and beyond that a waterfall feeds a small pool. I would go there to swim when I was a boy. There is a shallow cave behind the fall, deep enough to offer shelter at night or in a storm. A pleasant place to rest after a swim as well. Perhaps you would like a dip in the pool?”

  The idea was all too tempting. Her gurgling stomach saved her. “Mayhap we should eat before I decide. I don’t suppose you brought a midday repast with you? I have bread, cheese, and water but find myself wanting more that that.”

  He grinned. “I always travel well supplied for any eventuality. Choose your spot, and I will feed you with fruit and wine.”

  “Mmmm.” She licked her lips and temptation threatened when she saw him watching her mouth. “Ah, let us feast by the pool you mentioned. I’ll race you there. The last one to arrive prepares the meal.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  He put his hand over hers before she could gather the reins to give Persia the signal to run. Her soft skin, her lavender and mint scent, even the quiet gasp drawn between her glistening lips made his loins tighten and his head spin. He’d intended to tell her something, something important. But all he could think of was kissing her. He closed his eyes. Ah yes. Remembering, he opened his eyes again.

  “The slope at the end of this glen is verra steep. His voice rasped as if he’d forgotten how to speak. ’Tis no wise to approach it at speed. Even the most experienced of Highland men have come to grief there. Let us eat and dally here a while. A swim will be all the more welcome afterward.” Yes, after. After they fed their bodies and their other hungers. After sweet mead, sweetmeats, sweeter kisses, and mayhap the sweetest pleasure of all. ’Twas impossible not to put thought to deed. He leaned across to her and took her lips with his. When he released her, he sat back, grinning.

  Dazed, she stared at him for a moment. He was quite proud that his kiss could affect her so.

  Then in a blink, her gaze hardened and her right palm cracked against his cheek. Pain erupted as her left fist boxed his ear. Instinctively he released her, covering his injuries with his hands.

  She moved herself and Persia out of reach. “Oaf.”

  “Wha … ?”

  “Do you imagine I would allow you to kiss me in the same instant that you insult me? I’ll not dally with a boor.”

  His brows crashed together. “I didna insult you.”

  If she’d been standing, she would have stamped her foot. He’d seen that look often enough on his sisters’ faces when they got some harebrained notion.

  “You did. You as much as said that simply because I am English I’m too paltry a horsewoman to handle riding in the Highlands.”

  “Well, ye are English, so ’tis true, and therefore no insult.”

  “Ooooo! You pig-headed Scot. I’ll prove to you that this paltry Englishwoman can outride any Scot—male, female, or boorish baron—on any day of the week.”

  She gathered her reins in both hands.

  “Just what do you think you’re doing?”

  “You said the pool is at the end of this valley.” Her chin rose. “I find myse
lf overheated and want the refreshing swim you spoke of.”

  His brow relaxed. “So you see the sense of proceeding slowly.”

  “Not at all. I still intend to race you to the other end. So you’d best ready yourself. I’d like the race to be fair. I want no claims that I had a head start.”

  He put a restraining hand on her near rein.

  “Ye’ll no be racing anywhere.”

  She frowned and fixed a gimlet gaze on him. “Try and stop me.”

  “Be reasonable, Jessamyn.” Easing his grip on the leather strap he held, he tried to inject calm into the tension crackling between them. “You canna race over unfamiliar ground, no matter how good you believe your puny beast to be.” He jerked his head in Persia’s direction. “’Tis at least half a league to the slope. Your wee horsey will collapse before you are halfway across.”

  “You’re an ignorant fool, Raeb MacKai. I can race Persia down this valley, and I will.” She jerked the reins from his hands. “Now take charge of your own mount. Or are you so afraid I’ll win that you refuse my challenge?”

  “I’m no afraid,” he grumbled. Obviously she wasn’t going to listen to reason. The best he could do was to pick up the gauntlet she’d dropped and make sure she came to no harm. He settled himself in the saddle and gathered his horse’s reins. “You will just embarrass yourself.”

  “Hmph.” She stuck her charming, noble nose in the air and faced into the valley. “Are you ready?”

  “Aye.”

  She was off at a near gallop before he finished speaking.

  “Hyah.” Raeb lashed his horse into motion. He couldna allow any harm to come to Jessamyn. Married or no, Edward of England would wipe Dungarob from the earth if the least harm came to his goddaughter. Later, Raeb might chastise himself for mishandling an excellent opportunity to set the woman straight as to her purpose in life. For now, he had to keep her from killing herself over an imaginary insult.

  • • •

  The wind snatched Jessamyn’s laugh as she flew down the valley. For the first time in the weeks since learning she’d been sold to a wild Scot, she felt totally free.