Knight Defender (Knight Chronicles) Read online

  “I tore my tunic while training and have come for a new one.” Ignoring her question, he threw the words over his shoulder and removed the ripped tunic in one swift movement.

  He didn’t wish to yearn for her, nor did he wish to be at odds with her. But as long as he couldn’t trust her, he’d not touch her, and she … well, he hoped she was chafing at their forced proximity as much as he.

  “Would it help if I swore an oath to be truthful and honest?”

  Had he spoken aloud? Taking a new shirt from the chest, he turned to discover she’d put the sewing aside and now stood a hand-span away from him.

  “Nae. An oath is only as good as the trust it is built on, and we have none.”

  She laid her fingertips on his shoulder. “Not so—I trust you.”

  And with that simple statement she named the source of his problem. He deceived her while he demanded she hide nothing from him.

  He locked his gaze with hers. “Even if I tell you that when you came here, I’d no intention of wedding you. I intended to make you hate me and Scotland so much that you would reject the marriage. Then I could send you back to your father but keep the dowry.”

  Her hand dropped from his shoulder. “If that’s the way you feel, why change your mind? You can still send me away.”

  “Because now I know you. You are kind to my sisters, my clan loves you, you know horses and we—we have anticipated the marriage vows. Yes, you have deceived me, but no more than I have deceived you.”

  “I see.” She turned aside. “And you tell me this so I’ll know our marriage would not be based on love.”

  “Love?”

  “You do not love me.”

  “Nae, I dinna. But you dinna love me either.”

  “No, I suppose I don’t. I must thank you for trusting me with all your secrets.”

  Could he trust her with the plans to take Edward’s ships? No, he wasn’t the only one involved. But without trust, their marriage would be hell on earth, and he was determined to wed her. She was not everything he’d dreamed of in a wife. She was English, not Scot. However, she was a passionate woman who would challenge him. She had the skills to help him manage his keep, lands, people, and sisters. She’d proven that by her handling of the stallion, of Maeve’s difficulties, and myriad other small actions over the past weeks. But she’d not wanted this marriage. So much so, to avoid it she’d planned an escape. And came close to succeeding. His heart hurt at the emptiness he’d feel if she left. Maybe there was another way to bridge the chasm of distrust.

  “Aye. But I wonder, do you truly trust me?” he asked. “Enough to wed me and be a loyal wife?”

  “Yes.” She clasped her hands at her waist and nodded.

  “You willna think of running away?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’d like to rebuild the stables at Dungarob, and have need of your skills with horses. We once had a fine stable. Knights and lords came from Rome and beyond to buy the destriers, coursers, and palfreys we bred and trained here. I now have the MacKai breeding stock, but canna bring them home with the stables in disrepair.”

  “I am well aware of the MacKai reputation.” Her eyes rounded, and she leaned forward a bit. “But you’d really allow me to take part?”

  He twisted the shirt he still held in his hands. “I’m asking you to help, to be my baroness in all ways. Dungarob will be your home, and I would see you have reason to care for it and Clan MacKai.”

  She tilted her head a mite. “You are asking me to wed, not telling me?”

  He dropped the shirt to the floor and fixed his gaze with hers. “Aye, I am asking. If you refuse, we’ll still be wed. Honor requires it, but afterward, I’ll send you to that nunnery myself. You may live out your life there with no interference from me save that any bairn you bear will be raised here in Dungarob.”

  “That seems fair, but how do I know you’ll keep your word?”

  He thrust a hand through his hair. “By the virgin’s skirt, woman, you already said you trust me. But as a gesture of good faith, I’ll give you back your freedom as long as you swear no to run away again and will return to this chamber every night.”

  “You’d allow me complete freedom, to come and go as I please, but want everyone to think that I willing share your bed before marriage.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Dinna be a hypocrite, Jess. As I said, we’ve already anticipated our vows. As for what my clan thinks, I spend so much time up here, they already believe we’re tangling in the furs night and day.”

  A flush rose on her cheeks. “Very well. I accept your proposal. Since you promise everything and more than I could have at the nunnery, I would be foolish not to accept.”

  “More?”

  The flush deepened, and she looked away.

  He took one of her hands and drew her near.

  She lifted her head to stare at him.

  “Give me a kiss, Jessamyn, a chiallaich, to seal our promises.”

  She rose on tiptoe and brushed his lips with hers.

  His arms swept around her, crushing her to his chest, and he deepened the kiss. He licked and nibbled, tempting her with glimpses of delight until she relaxed against him. Then he lifted her into his arms and strode to the bed.

  He laid her gently on the mattress, staring down at her before he retrieved his shirt.

  “Raeb?”

  “’Twas a promise for tonight, when you come willingly to our bed. I’ve been absent from training too long as it is. Our pleasure will have to wait.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’ll tell the guard to leave and inform the cook that you’ll sup with me and the rest of the clan from now on.”

  “Thank you.”

  He pulled on the clean tunic then strode from the room before he could yield to desire. They finally had a beginning. With luck and trust they might build a good life, mayhap even a loving one, together.

  • • •

  Jessamyn pressed her fingertips to her mouth, trying to regain the delight Raeb’s kiss had given her. He’d asked her to wed, not demanded or ordered or forced. He’d as good as promised she could share in the work of restoring the MacKai stables. He’d given her time to consider, and promised to take her personally to the convent if she decided she could not live with him. He would not have to. She could never leave her child, nor could she separate child from father. No, if she was pregnant, she would stay. And if not—well, she had months to consider her choices. She should be dancing on air.

  But she could not rejoice, for one problem remained—her letter to her uncle. She should tell Raeb. He’d confessed his deception to her, she should do the same. In an ideal world, they would decide together what action to take. But the world was far from ideal, and their mutual promises too new, too fragile. Would she really risk Simon’s life on the chance that Raeb would agree to not attack Edward’s ships and men? Even if he agreed, more Highlanders than the MacKais were involved. Could he stop them? Would he even try? Raeb believed that Edward planned to use Dungarob’s harbor to land troops that would conquer Scotland. Her godfather was ambitious. He’d not hesitate to do exactly as Raeb believed, perhaps more.

  Heavens, her note might make King Edward angry enough to send more men and ships. Raeb and his compatriots would be outnumbered and killed. She had to warn him. She seized her cloak and strode to the door. Her fingers on the latch, she hesitated—warning Raeb was likely a death sentence for Simon. Her brother would be on one of those ships. Given enough warning, Raeb would simply gather more men. They could both be dead within a month.

  The cloak dropped from her fingers, and she cradled her head, moaning out her frustration. She could not confide in her betrothed. She had no means to get a message to Simon and tell him not to come. Nor would another missive to Edward arrive before the damage of her first note was done. Edward was as bull-headed, calculating, and manipulative as her father. He must be stopped, and the only possible means of getting him to change his plans was to appeal to him in
person.

  Was it possible? A good four weeks remained until mid-summer. She could ride overland to England in that time. There were other problems. She was not certain where Edward was, but she could discover that as she traveled. Edward might not listen to her. However, his deafness to her pleas was guaranteed if she did not try. Granted, she would be breaking the promise she’d just made to Raeb. He’d given her hope for a bright future together. Now she would have to destroy that hope, for she would not be returning to Dungarob. He would not want her.

  Tonight would be the last night she spent in his arms. She would take the rest of the day to steel herself for that bittersweet loving. And she would plan how to leave as early as possible the next morning. Saving Raeb’s and Simon’s lives was more important than anything else.

  At breakfast, Raeb announced he would spend the day with the keep’s armorer. Telling him she’d like to ride Persia for exercise, Jessamyn agreed to have two guards go with her, for safety’s sake. When he kissed her briefly, her heart clutched, and her breath stuttered. Once more she would betray him.

  The men he’d insisted on to guard her safety were an obstacle she would have to surmount, and soon. She needed to head south, cutting east as she found breaks in the ridges that separated valleys, instead of dallying about the MacKai holding to lull guards into neglecting their duty.

  So under the guise of curiosity about the best route to use when she and Raeb visited her family, she spent the start of her journey questioning the men-at-arms about the various routes south through Scotland.

  They stopped at mid-morning by a stream to allow the horses to rest and drink. One man stayed with Jessamyn while the other disappeared to scout the area for any possible dangers. Claiming the need to relieve herself, Jessamyn stepped into the trees and skirted the underbrush, until she found a hiding place behind some bushes near the horses. She used to fool her brothers in this way—hide until they wandered away looking for her then sprint to her mount and be at least two leagues away before her they discovered she was gone. Why they’d never caught on to her tricks, she did not know, but the method had proven successful so she decided to use it now.

  A while later she heard the men call to each other.

  “Have you seen Lady Du Grace?”

  “I left her with you. Don’t tell me you lost her!”

  “She stepped into the woods to relieve herself.”

  “And no doubt got herself lost. You go upstream for one hundred paces along the bank, and I’ll go downstream. If we don’t find her, we’ll walk ten paces into the wood and return to this spot.”

  “What if we don’t find her?”

  “Then one of us will have to go back to Dungarob for help while the other continues to search. But I doubt that will happen. Her horse is still here, so she can’t have gone far.”

  Jessamyn smiled. One hundred paces and the same back again would take some time, especially while searching for tracks they would not find. She’d be leagues away before they discovered she’d tricked them. The one who stayed to search would have the advantage of familiarity with the terrain. But thanks to games of horseback tag with her brothers, she knew a few things about hiding her trail and losing a pursuer.

  A half a day later, the light was fading, and Jessamyn was fairly certain she’d lost anyone tracking her. Now all she had to worry about was encountering strangers—friendly or not—and finding shelter for the night from the thunderstorm she heard rumbling farther up the valley. She searched to no avail for a cave like the one she’d shared with Raeb. The memory made her conscience twinge. Would Raeb understand and accept her when she returned, or had she lost all chance to win his trust?

  It couldn’t matter. If Edward’s troop ships were not stopped, both Raeb and her brother were doomed. She finally settled for the night in a huddle of large rocks at the bottom of two great firs. Fallen needles and small branches had collected in the spaces between the rocks, so she had bedding and fuel for a small fire. A stream trickled nearby. She had oats in her saddlebag for Persia. She carried enough food and wine to last four or five days and a bag of silver kept from her dowry for emergencies. She’d be in flatter terrain by the time her food ran out. She should be able to travel the roads and visit villages where she might purchase meals and perhaps even lodging. Innkeepers would look askance at a woman traveling alone, but clerics would give charity to all, especially if the charity came with a healthy donation from the person receiving the clerics’ beneficence.

  The next morning she felt almost cheerful about her chances of retrieving that ill-considered message. She broke camp and mounted Persia just as the rains began.

  • • •

  Raeb doffed his rain-soaked cloak as he strode into the tabhairn seeking warmth, food, and even the smallest trace of information leading to a blonde she-devil. The rain had started the morning after Jessamyn disappeared and had not stopped since. It suited his mood. She’d promised to trust him, to stay with him. Yet she’d had the boldness to betray him again. She’d gone beyond any limits of deceit and guile he could imagine. Lust had turned him stupid was the only explanation. And his stupidity put everything and everyone in Dungarob at risk.

  Were it not for that, he’d consider himself well rid of her. He would have remained warm and dry in his keep, if no less miserable. He was used to the rain, but he doubted Jessamyn was. If she suffered ’twas no more than the traitress deserved. However, the thought of Jessamyn sick, perhaps fever mad and lost, knotted his stomach.

  Panic had seized him when her escort had returned to Dungarob claiming she was lost. He’d ordered more than half his men-at-arms to mount and take part in the search, leaving a skeleton garrison to guard his sisters and the keep. Then, just as the troop had been leaving, the cook stopped them, wanting to know who had taken precious stores from her larder and keeping room.

  Raeb hadn’t wanted to suspect Jessamyn as the thief. To do so would mean she’d planned this disappearance despite her sworn promises to him. However, careful questioning of the cook revealed that no one else would have taken dried meats that traveled well or just enough wine for one person. Anger burned away panic. He would get her back then throw her into Dungarob’s darkest dungeon.

  He’d taken fewer men and did not waste time searching the wood where her escort had lost her. Instead, he’d spent most of the day combing both sides of the riverbank. He’d only found her trail after examining some branches that seemed too carefully arranged. Once certain he could follow her, he sent the remainder of his men back to Dungarob with messages to his garrison to follow Dougal’s orders if attacked.

  Secure in the knowledge that he’d done everything possible to keep his sisters safe, Raeb detoured to Loch Naver Stronghold where he besought a better mount from the MacKai horses being kept there. His sister and her husband were not yet returned, but their marriage meant that Clan Marr would treat the once hated Baron MacKai with the same courtesy they used toward their own earl. He promised himself he’d spend several days with Sorcha as soon as he captured Jessamyn and the ships Edward was sending to Dungarob. Family would ease the ache that lingered in his chest from trusting a faithless wench.

  The time at Loch Naver cost him a day, but the horse he now rode ate up the distance. Raeb stopped only to rest the steed, sleeping in snatches in the saddle. Five days later, he was convinced his quarry headed roughly southeast. So he stopped tracking her and took to the open road in the hope that he’d be able to gain ground and get word of a woman riding a white horse and traveling alone. The decision had been a good one. He’d found mention of such a woman in several villages and knew that he was closing the distance. She’d soon be in his power and would know the true meaning of betrayal. She’d know the same hurt and anguish he’d felt. He would be merciless, as she had been with him.

  The tabhairn keeper in this English border village had news not only of Jessamyn but also of Edward, who was rumored to be at Alnwick with a large troop of men. The tabhairn keep revealed that J
essamyn had sought the same information. All Raeb had to do was follow reports of the shabbily dressed, beautiful woman attracting attention at almost every village.

  She would not escape him, nor would she reach Alnwick. He had resources she knew nothing of, and if it cost him everything, he would take captive the woman who’d shredded his heart. He had an ally in England near Alnwick. Robert Clarwyn, Baron Ravensmere, had been instrumental in bringing about peace between clans MacKai and Marr. Even better than the peace, Ravensmere had helped Raeb regain the MacKai breeding herd. Confident that Jessamyn was now within his reach and would soon know the full extent of his fury, Raeb headed for Ravensmere Castle.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jessamyn approached the gates of Ravensmere Castle with relief, although she did not know the baron. Distantly related to the man’s family, her father had not acknowledged the connection due to the Clarwyns’ murky past. However, the present baron had done some great feat for Edward in the past year and been rewarded with Edward’s cousin as his bride. Since Jessamyn was Edward’s goddaughter, she felt certain Baron Ravensmere could put her in a position to contact Margery—hopefully before that ill-considered missive was delivered.

  However, once she got the gate guard’s attention, getting in to see the baron was not as simple as she expected.

  “I tell you I am Lady Jessamyn Du Grace, a cousin of Baron Ravensmere, and he will be most upset if you do not grant me the shelter and courtesy due a noblewoman.”

  The Ravensmere postern guard eyed her suspiciously. “I gots me orders, and I don’t open the gate to no one who ain’t expected. Since my captain ain’t told me to expect you, I can’t let you in.”

  She could understand why the man regarded with suspicion a lone and rather bedraggled woman riding a smallish, dirty, white horse. Jessamyn couldn’t blame him for having doubts about her claim of noble status and connection to Baron Ravensmere. Neither could she let that stop her.

  “Can you not see that I am exhausted? I’ve been riding for days in the rain to see your master about a most urgent matter. I am alone. I’ve no weapons. I’m starving and soaked to the bone. I could not harm a flea, especially with so dedicated a guard to watch my every move. Have pity, and at least let me shelter in the guardhouse while you send for your captain, so I may appeal to him. You would do as much for any beggar.”