Forbidden Legacy (2 page)

“Nay, Your Grace,” Katherine breathed, “I–I only wish to help. I am skilled with a sword.”

“You will remain here!”

Her heart dropped. 'Twas a risk to push him, but she was desperate. Who wouldna be after the gruesome events she'd witnessed? “I know I speak out of turn. It wasna my intention to usurp your authority.” At his hesitation, she pushed on, her words spilling out. “I am loyal to you, I swear it, but Avalon Castle is my home; 'tis all I know,” she rasped, her words trembling with grief. “If necessary, for my home and my country, I shall sacrifice my life.”

He glared at her. “You are but a wee lass.”

“Mayhap.” She drew herself up to her full height. “But one who fights with the fury of a thousand warriors!”

For a long moment he studied her. Then his mouth twisted into a wry smile. “If I agree to let you return, you will comply with my wishes?”

“Aye, Your Grace, anything.”

The king nodded. “At first light you will depart with a seasoned force to recapture Avalon Castle.”

Relief swept through her. A smile trembled on her mouth. “Your Grace, I—”

“But,” he continued, “for your protection, before you go, you must agree to wed the knight who leads the attacking force.”

W
ith the details of finding resting places for the Templars settled, Stephan walked down the corridor. Exhaustion weighed heavily on his mind; he should find his bed until King Robert requested his presence. As if with the worries blackening his thoughts he could rest.

Hurried steps echoed from the turret.

Torches seated in ornate wall scones illuminated the chamberlain as he reached the top step, then hurried his way. “Sir Stephan, the king requests your presence.”

In silence Stephan kept pace at his side, worried the Templars would be forced to remain at Urquhart Castle until they'd seized a coastal stronghold. With the importance of the cargo onboard, 'twas imperative to reach a secluded location without delay.

The king's man halted before the throne room's entry, moved aside. “You may go in.”

“I thank you.” After a deep breath, Stephan stepped across the threshold. He paused, stunned to discover a beautiful woman with hair as gold as the desert sand standing rigid at the king's side. Confused by her presence, more so at her unyielding stance, he closed the door.

At the soft thud, the lass turned and her eyes met his, then flared with anger.

Far from intimidated, Stephan held her unwelcoming gaze. His arrival displeased her. Whatever caused her upset wasna his concern. He had enough problems without adding hers.

Paces from the throne, Stephan halted and then bowed. “Your Grace.”

“Sir Stephan.” The king nodded toward the woman. “May I introduce my goddaughter, Lady Katherine Calbraith.”

“My lady,” Stephan said, smothering the wash of irritation her surname wrought. 'Twas coincidence, surely, that her family name matched that of a man he loathed.

“Lady Katherine,” Robert Bruce said, “may I present Sir Stephan.”

Sapphire-blue eyes narrowed as she gave a slight nod. “Sir Stephan.”

Her cool tone prodded Stephan. Between the Crusades and years in service to the Grand Master in France, never had he and this woman met. Yet the lass behaved as if through sheer resolve she tolerated his presence.

“'Twould indeed seem a fortuitous day,” the king said into the thick silence, “as each of your requests to me will be fulfilled by the other.”

Fulfilled by the other? God's blade! “Your Grace, Lady Katherine is nae what I seek.” A fact the king bloody well knew!

“Nor I a knight, Your Majesty,” she said, ice carving her words.

A smile touched the sovereign's mouth. “Your petitions have been made, entreaties I shall grant.” He glanced at the woman. “Sir Stephan is a man of the highest caliber, a knight who has proven himself many times over on the battlefield and a warrior who will lead his knights to reclaim your home.”

Her face paled. “But—”

“Nay,” the king interrupted. “Earlier this day you agreed to my terms. Now you will abide by them.”

Her fingers clenched the elegant folds of her travel-worn gown. “Aye, Your Grace.”

Robert Bruce's gaze leveled on him. “And you seek a stronghold, one I will bestow upon you with your marriage to Lady Katherine.”

Marriage?
The word seared through Stephan's mind, a union at odds with his vow of celibacy upon becoming a Knight Templar. A pledge that, with the Grand Master's dissolution of the Order, was now terminated.

Throat tight, Stephan dragged his gaze to the woman. Despite the grand master's dictate allowing matrimony, he wasna interested in taking a wife.

Aye the lass was attractive. Her slender figure and comely face would appeal to any man, but he'd sworn his life to serving God's will and eradicating evil.

Frustrated, he struggled to find a reason to avoid the entanglement of an unwanted marriage. “I am a knight without a title or wealth. I dinna wish to dishonor Lady Katherine by having her marry below her station. Nor is a union necessary. I need naught but a stronghold.”

Determination shrouded the king's eyes. “You will wed and your marriage will be done this night or neither request will be granted.”

Fighting for calm, Stephan fisted his hands at his sides. He didna want a wife! But 'twould seem he would leave here shackled to the lass like an unruly dog chained to a post. He gave a curt nod. “Aye, Your Grace.”

“Upon your vows, Sir Stephan,” Robert Bruce said, “I will bestow upon you the title of Earl of Dunsmore.”

Stephan stilled, noted the woman watching him with unveiled anger. “The Earl of Dunsmore? But—”

“Aye,” the king cut in. “English troops have slaughtered Lady Katherine's family and seized her home. Avalon Castle must be retaken. A stronghold upon its recapture that shall be yours.” A glint of satisfaction flickered in his eyes. “'Twill serve your needs well, will it nae?”

Stephan's mind stumbled at the enormity of his legacy, once lost, now being returned. Nae returned but bestowed upon him with expectations. “It will, Your Grace,” Stephan forced out. Recovering his heritage fulfilled a long-lost dream, but a wife—a woman with whom convention would dictate intimacy at least to confirm their marriage—wasna an option he'd have chosen.

The tangle of elation and annoyance dissolved as the shame of his youth resurfaced, skeletons that had haunted him since that fateful day, memories he'd never forget. Neither did he wish to marry a woman whose father had murdered his family and stolen his heritage.

A fact the king knew.

A fact the king chose to ignore.

A fact the king decided wasna an issue in making his decision.

But why?
Stephan un fisted his hands. As if the reason mattered. With his oath given to the Grand Master, a necessity to find a safe haven for the Templar knights, along with their treasure, the unwanted marriage was a turn of events Stephan could do naught about.

From Lady Katherine's displeasure, he wasna alone in his upset at their upcoming union. In the end, 'twas an alliance in which neither had a choice.

“Lady Katherine,” Robert Bruce said, “I sent word to the bishop a short while ago to await our arrival in the chapel. Go. We will be along shortly.”

“Aye, Yo-Your Grace.” Face pale, she gave a shaky nod. Her steps heavy, as if being led to the gallows, she departed.

The door closed behind her, his fate as hers sealed. Or was it? Wit had aided Stephan out of many a mire and he prayed 'twould do so now.

He cleared his throat. “Your Grace, as you recognized me, I am given to believe you are aware 'twas Lady Katherine's father who laid siege to my home, murdered my family, and seized Avalon Castle. Yet,” he continued, struggling to keep his words void of anger, “you insist on my marrying a lass who is my enemy.”

“Your union will be the first tie in ending the bitterness between your clans. I need the MacQuistans in our fight to reclaim Scotland.” His eyes narrowed. “Lady Katherine doesna know Avalon Castle and her father's title once belonged to your family, nor of her father's actions. That information is yours to share if you choose.”

Nuptials far from erased the hatred of another man, but Lady Katherine's innocence of her father's atrocities complicated the situation. “'Tis wrong to take my anger out on someone who is innocent, nor will I hold the sins of her father against her.”

“I would have thought you pleased to be awarded such a prestigious castle, more so one of your birthright, and one that will give the Templars the stronghold they seek.”

Guilt at his selfishness swept through Stephan. The sovereign's decisions were dictated by his country's need, nae the emotional whims of a few. “Sire, you have my deepest gratitude for bestowing upon me Avalon. Once my men and I seize the fortress, we will take a portion of the dungeons and create a false entry to hide our cargo.”

“'Tis unnecessary,” the king said, the firelight reflecting off the circlet of gold upon his head. “Below the castle lie hidden catacombs.”

He frowned. “Hidden catacombs?”

“With your having lived there, I thought you knew.” He paused. “Nay doubt your father believed you were too young and had planned to tell you upon your being knighted.”

At the mention of his father Stephan stiffened, then refocused his thoughts to the news of the catacombs. A perfect place to hide the precious goods within the galleys.

“As well,” the king continued, “there is a secret entry that will allow you and your men to slip inside Avalon unseen.”

Stunned, Stephan nodded. “'Twould seem there is much about the castle to learn.”

“Indeed, and we will discuss this more later, but now the bishop and Lady Katherine await our arrival.”

* * *

Like a death knell, bells tolled the passage of another hour as Stephan struggled to accept the catastrophe of his wedded demise. Buried beneath the scent of frankincense and myrrh, he plighted his marriage troth with the same sense of dread as Lady Katherine, sealing a union neither wished.

Once the ceremony was over, he would have distance from his unwanted wife. He'd devised a strategy to delay the inevitable intimacy, one, judging by Lady Katherine's withering glare, she would welcome.

After he'd repeated his final vow, the bishop sprinkled holy water on them and recited a prayer of hope, faithfulness, and love. “God bless you both.”

As if a curse, Stephan drank the spiced wine.

Robert Bruce nodded to the bishop. “You have my gratitude, Your Excellency.”

“An honor, Sire.” The clergyman departed, and silence permeated the chapel.

“Sir Stephan,” the king said, “you will sail for Avalon Castle with the morning tide.”

Relief swept over him. “My men and I will be ready.”

“There is one more detail that I wish to discuss,” the Bruce said.

As if the turn of events this day had brought had been anything but disastrous? From the sovereign's tone, whatever news he would impart, it wouldna be one of Stephan's liking. “Your Grace?”

“It concerns Lady Katherine.”

She stiffened.

Mirth trickled through him. The Bruce believed Stephan would regret leaving her, when his sovereign's order melded with his own plans to sail and leave her behind. “Once the stronghold is secured, I will return and retrieve my wife.”

A trip he'd make once rebuilding the castle was completed. If reconstruction took a year or more, mayhap longer if his forces were sent to fight for the king's cause, then who was he to argue?

“Nay,” Robert Bruce stated.

Her face paled.

A chill crawled through Stephan. God in heaven, whatever the reason, the lass knew.

“When you depart,” the Bruce said, each word crisp, “as your wife is the sole person who knows the entry to the secret tunnel, as well as the hidden catacombs, and due to her refusal to divulge the information of either and insistence upon her immediate return to her home, Lady Katherine will sail with you.”

S
ilence, thick and potent, filled the bridal chamber, the distance between Katherine and her husband nae far enough. Fighting for calm, through the window she scanned the trees in the distance, the barren ground exposed beneath the moonlight like a harbinger of her future. She didna want any part of this marriage, Sir Stephan, or the promise of their cold, empty life ahead.

“Wine, my lady.” Her husband's deep voice etched with control sifted through the chamber.

How could he be so calm after the chaotic events of this day? “Nay. I am . . .” She started to turn, stilled at the sight of the bed. The attack upon her at the age of fifteen summers raged through her mind. A tremor rent her body, then another, the horrific memories threatening to shatter her fragile calm. She cursed the images, nae wanting to recall the brutality of the assailant's touch.

“You are trembling. Why?”

Furious he'd witnessed her weakness, she forced the memory away, faced him. Unnerved by the intensity of her husband's gaze, his sheer physical size, she stepped back.

“You have naught to fear from me.”

Pulse racing, she took in the muscles carving his every inch. Arms trained to wield a blade with deadly efficiency, or hold her until she bent to his will, regardless of her pleas. “Why should I believe you?” she asked, damning the inevitability of the next few hours but determined to hold her own. If he believed her weak, he would soon learn otherwise. Though forced to wed, she was a noble in her own right.

“Because,” he said softly, “I give you my word as a knight that I will never harm you.”

“And that is supposed to reassure me?”

Hazel eyes narrowed. “I dinna lie.”

Katherine angled her chin, refusing to show fear. “And I dinna wish this union.”

A wry smile flickered across his mouth. “A point we both share.” The smile fell away. “Regardless of your or my opposition to our marriage, 'tis done.”

Confused, she paused. “If you didna request this match, why would Robert Bruce mandate such?”

Silence.

A chill swept over her. She rubbed her arms, each moment looming with the unspoken threat of their impending intimacy. A personal relationship Katherine doubted she would ever welcome.

If she'd met Stephan at any other time, she would have been intrigued by his eyes, which held secrets, the hard cut of his jaw framed with the shadow of a beard, and the stance of a man confident in his abilities. Mayhap after a while they could have become friends. But naught was comforting about this moment. As her husband, he held the right to do as he wished.

Including take her to his bed.

A marriage in which she was stripped of all her rights, including her father's promise she could marry the suitor of her choice. “You willna tell me why our sovereign bade we marry?”

A muscle worked in his jaw. “The reason for this match is our king's to reveal.”

“Is it?” she said, furious at this turn of events. “Being granted a formidable stronghold along with the title of earl seems an unusual boon for a knight supporting his king.”

His nostrils flared as he towered over her, his reaction that of a man unused to being questioned. “I dinna expect you to understand the workings of a monarch, nor the challenges ahead in reuniting Scotland.”

Anger tore through her. “How dare you accuse me of ignorance when you know naught of me!”

“Then we are even, are we nae?”

The pompous ass! She glared at him. “I have managed Avalon Castle for the last several years. I am skilled with a sword, in the arts of healing, and have a thorough understanding of strategies in battle.”

“Mayhap,” he said, “but weapons practice and discussions of tactics with nay threat of harm are poor teachers of the reality of war.”

A fact she couldna debate.

Fatigue flickered in his gaze. “Lady Katherine, neither of us wishes this marriage, but 'tis done. For Scotland's freedom, 'tis imperative to retake Avalon Castle, a feat
I will
achieve.” He stepped closer.

Angling her chin in defiance, she stepped back.

Stephan frowned. “Why do you behave as if you are afraid of me when I have assured you that you have naught to fear?”

Surprised by his sincerity, his tone truly perplexed, with a steadying breath she glanced toward the bed.

He followed her gaze. With a muttered curse, Stephan walked over, unsheathed his dagger, drew the tip across his skin, and smeared a line of blood upon the sheet.

In shock, she stared at him. “What are you doing?”

“I believe,” he said, his words dry, “'tis obvious. And now nae an issue.”

“I . . .” Stumbling for words, Katherine glanced at the smear of red upon the linen and then toward him.

He arched a brow.

Since the attack, she'd dreaded her wedding night. Now this warrior—nay, an earl, a man who claimed her father's title through their marriage—had given her a true and benevolent gift . . . leaving her untouched.

But why? As his marital right, regardless of her wishes, he should expect her to yield to his demands of intimacy. Yet he chose to leave her chaste. Mary have mercy, had someone informed him of the assault? Was he repulsed at the thought of bedding a woman tarnished by another?

Humiliation swept her as she struggled beneath the shame of her unchaste state. Hand trembling, she gestured to the bed. “Why would you do this?”

Stephan paused as he wiped his blade. “Are you saying you wish to consummate the marriage?”

The coolness of his words made her cringe. “Nay! I . . . I was trying to understand your decision to leave me untouched.”

His gaze unfathomable, he finished cleaning his weapon, and then sheathed the dagger. “There is little to understand. We have done naught but establish our boundaries. A fact I dinna plan to change,” he stated, as if unfazed by the candlelight upon the massive bed, the fire blazing within the hearth, and the decanter of wine on a nearby table. Each detail intended to craft an air of seduction within the chamber. “This night you will sleep in the bed. I shall make a pallet beside the hearth. On the morrow, once you share the location of the secret tunnel's entry along with the location of the catacombs below the castle, my men and I will depart.” He walked to a chest near the wall. “You will remain here until I decide—”

“I am going with you.”

He halted and slowly faced her, his expression hard. “Reclaiming Avalon will be dangerous. I refuse to allow any unnecessary risk to your life. On the morrow you will tell me what I wish to know.”

“Nay.”

In three long strides he crossed the room, caught her shoulders.

Her fears of moments before reignited, Katherine opened her mouth to scream.

“God's blade!” He released her as if burned, his indignant glare pouring into hers. “You willna fear me!”

Her panic of moments before shifted to anger. “As if you can command my feelings?”

“I have given you my oath that you are safe. In regard to you traveling with me and my men, I forbid it.”

“Forbid it?” The arse! “I am nae a woman you can order about.”

The hard glint in his eyes sharpened. “Wars are fought by men, nae for the weak and those guided by emotions.”

She angled her jaw. “I can handle a blade as well as any man.”

“In mock battle. How will you respond when a sword is driven into your friend, fighting at your side, while you struggle to fend off two or more attackers? Can you keep your focus on defending yourself while hearing the screams of your friend dying, his agony-ridden pleas for mercy to end his life while his blood stains the ground?” He paused. “What of the other warriors surrounding you, who lay amongst the tangle of bodies, some dead, others damning that they still lived?”

His words crafted horrific images. From his vehemence, actions he'd taken, witnessed, or worse. “You may be a seasoned warrior, but Avalon is my birthright. Regardless of your approval, I will join in the attack when the castle is reclaimed. If you and your men tried scaling the walls without my aid, you would have little luck.”

“I well know the challenges ahead.”

Surprised, she frowned. “You have visited Avalon?”

“I am familiar with the stronghold.”

At his brusque words, unease slid through Katherine. She recalled the faces and names of those who had visited in the past. “We have never met.”

Stoic eyes held hers with quiet evaluation. “There are many who have entered Avalon's walls whose presence you are unaware of.”

Mayhap, but something about his claim implied more. If her father. . . Pain sliced through her, but she smothered the hurt. “This discussion is moot, a point dictated by our king.”

Her husband's mouth tightened. “He—”

“Said I will sail with you and your men to Avalon. Neither will I discuss this further.” She was exhausted. Between the horrific memories haunting her and trying to cope with the debacle of this day, Katherine doubted she would find rest in the hours ahead.

On edge, she stepped past him and walked toward the bed. He'd claimed he wouldna touch her. Now she would discover the truth. Too aware of his cool stare, keeping her steps unfaltering, she moved to the opposite side of the bed, the farthest away from him and the smear of his blood upon the sheet.

Her body trembling, she slid beneath the blankets. With a silent prayer he'd remain away, she closed her lids and forced her breaths into a steady rhythm.

The crackle of the fire filled the chamber, a warm, cheery sound at odds with the impending sense of doom.

Soft steps echoed on the aged wood. The rustle of clothing.

She peered out.

Her husband was making a pallet.

Thank God. “Where did you spend your youth?” she asked, curious about the man to whom she was now bound.

“My past is unimportant.”

“As your . . .” She cleared her throat. “As your wife, do you nae think I should know?”

“Nay.”

Add stubborn to his list of traits. “I detect a French accent, and another I dinna recognize. Did you live in France?”

Silence.

The man could frustrate a priest. “My godfather said you are a fair man.”

Stephan's deep sigh rumbled into the silence.

“Your evading my questions will do naught but increase my curiosity.”

At his silence she turned on her side and stared at the flames. A spark popped in the hearth, the glowing ember tumbling into the ashes and fading to black.

Unsettled, she glanced toward her husband.

Firelight outlined his long, muscular frame as he lay on his back, paces before the hearth. The tension of his muscles assured her that he wasna asleep. “You and your men sailed to Urquhart Castle. I find it intriguing that a knight leads a fleet of ships.”

Firelight illuminated his eyes, opening, narrowing. “Lady Katherine, we share a chamber out of duty. Dinna seek more. 'Twill be a long, hard day of travel on the morrow. Go to sleep.” He tugged his blanket higher and closed his eyes.

Katherine shot him her most fierce glare. 'Twas fine with her. She welcomed their distance, was thrilled by his intention to keep their marriage unconsummated, and thankful that once they'd reclaimed her home and finished rebuilding the castle, Stephan would be away serving their king.

A time she would embrace.

She shifted to a more comfortable position. Although they'd established their boundaries with the other, the feeling that he was withholding important information from her lingered.

As if whatever secret he kept mattered at this moment. She closed her eyes and tried to empty her mind.

The shout of a guard on duty echoed from outside. The somber tones of the church bell rang out the late hour. Another guard called from farther away.

Frustrated, she abandoned the pretense of trying to sleep and stared at the ceiling. Flickers of shadows cast by the flames danced overhead.

Clothing rustled.

Curious, she glanced over.

Stephan was kneeling near the hearth, a crucifix in his hands, his lips moving in a soft whisper.

What was he saying? Keeping her movements slow, Katherine edged closer.

“For thine is the kingdom, the . . .” Fire popped in the hearth, smothering the softness of his words. “. . . ever. Amen.” He crossed himself and then quietly started again.

Why was he repeating the prayer? With each repetition, she grew more intrigued, fascinated by his dedication, his stillness, his absolute calm. If she had nae just married this man, she would think Sir Stephan's actions those of one who served God. But a man of the cloth would never be allowed to wed.

And what of her husband's vehemence in leaving her untouched? She dismissed any connection. He'd explained his reason. From his prayers, 'twas obvious he was a man of deep faith.

And a knight.

His mention of battle was told with the conviction of someone who'd faced the horrors of combat many times over. His unshakable belief that he and his men would seize Avalon, that of a hardened warrior confident of the challenges ahead.

Neither would he disclose more about his past. From Stephan's curt reply when she'd asked, it was clear he intended to withhold even the smallest detail that could bind them on the most basic level.

As he started the prayer anew, she closed her eyes, focused on his steady tone, the soothing cadence. Exhaustion blurred her thoughts. Katherine embraced the haze of sleep and sank into the welcome darkness.