The Knight’s Reward: Border Series Book Ten

by Mecca, Cecelia

  Kenshire. Bristol. Brockburg. Clave. We will all be affected by your choice.

  Neill had been taught to be loyal, a king’s man, and yet it infuriated him that Edward had not removed Caxton long ago, without his intervention. As always, the north was treated as a distant concern when compared with the south. The monarch had more interest in France than he did in the top half of his country.

  “To court?” Sara asked.

  “Aye.”

  He chanced a look at Kathryn, who sat beside Sara. He hadn’t protested at the revised seating arrangements, which bore his brother’s stamp—he, next to his brother and achingly far from Kathryn. Being close to her reminded Neill the discipline he’d worked for so long to cultivate was a mere illusion.

  “For all that we’ve discussed the alternatives,” Neill said, “there is only one way to change course, one person who can stay this marriage but also remove Caxton.”

  “What will you say to Edward?” Kathryn and Sara exchanged glances as Sara asked that question. The two women had become even closer in recent weeks, as she had with Neill’s young nephews, so much so that the idea of Kathryn leaving Kenshire had become absurd. He’d asked Geoffrey that very question the night before. Would he have Neill take her back to The Wild Boar on his way to court to marry a woman he’d never met?

  Even Geoffrey had reluctantly agreed that Kenshire suited her—and that his wife and sons would likely murder him if he sent her away.

  “I will ask him to reconsider the conditions of his reward.”

  Geoffrey made a sound that could be interpreted only one way. And though Neill tended to agree—the king would hardly lend him a sympathetic ear—he had no other choice. He’d confronted one monarch, and now he must face the other.

  “I will offer to compensate her family for their troubles.”

  None spoke for some time.

  The somber mood did not improve all night, each of them contemplating Edward’s response. They all knew the king was unlikely to grant his request.

  And what would happen then?

  He asked himself that question over and over again over the course of a mostly sleepless night. Neill hadn’t told his brother or Kathryn he planned to leave right away. He knew she would want to come, but it was much too dangerous. So when he strode into the hall, prepared to do just that, he was surprised to see Kathryn.

  She stood with Faye at the hall’s entrance as those who had attended mass walked by them, ready to break their fast. “I am coming with you,” she said as he approached her.

  “No.”

  He pulled her to the side, not liking the resolve he saw on her face.

  “Even if there is no murderer there, at court, it would serve only to instigate the king. And the traveling. Kathryn, you cannot. ’Tis not safe.”

  Head held high, Kathryn stared him straight in the eyes but did not say a word. This was not the same maid who had served him at The Wild Boar, and Neill knew even as he spoke his argument was lost.

  Even so, he tried.

  “He could suspect you are the reason for my request. If we travel together—”

  “I will not go to court but will stay in London, with an escort.”

  “No.”

  “I did not ask a question.”

  Faye had moved away, but he could see the small smile on the older woman’s lips. If Faye thought the battle lost, then surely Sara also knew what Kathryn intended. He knew both women well enough to know this would not end as he wished. And so, though he had many more arguments for Kathryn to stay at Kenshire, he kept them to himself.

  He looked down at her riding gown and serviceable leather boots. “How did you know I planned to leave this morn?”

  “There is no reason to delay.”

  Indeed, there was not.

  Chapter 26

  Neill had arrived in London three days ago, but he had still been unable to gain an audience with the king. The king, he had been told, was indisposed. So he spent his days speaking with court officials at the royal palace, his nights at the inn with his men. And Kathryn, although they feigned a lack of intimacy.

  They’d agreed she would not come to court, and although Neill had many contacts throughout the city, Kathryn had insisted on remaining at The Fox and Goose. It was one of the more respectable inns, and he was there with her each night, though in his own room. Still, Neill despised leaving her each morning.

  Unlike in Scotland, he and Kathryn were never without a chaperone. Here, in London, there would be repercussions if an unmarried woman were seen alone with a man—even more so if this unmarried woman were seen alone with this man.

  And yet, he longed to hold her. It had been too long since they’d had time alone, which was why Neill stood outside her door in the thick of night. Thankfully, she slept alone, without her chaperone. So as not to be discovered, he knocked softly, praying none of the other doors in the dark hallway opened.

  When she opened the door, he lost no time stepping inside.

  Kathryn was prepared for sleep, her shift covered with a robe that he guessed was borrowed from Sara. Deep crimson, edged with lace, it gave Kathryn a very regal appearance. And a seductive one as well.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered. “If you’re caught in my room—”

  “There will be questions, aye.”

  He took a step toward her. “Which is why I don’t plan to be caught.”

  “We agreed . . .” She stopped. They’d danced around each other all the way to London. Although they were staying at the same inn, they’d avoided interacting any more than need be. At night, Kathryn and her chaperone would sit with Aylmer and another of his men, who did not wear the distinctive colors of Kenshire. The other guests hopefully thought Neill and Kathryn were strangers.

  “Do you remember the story you told me,” he said, taking another step toward her, “of how your father chastised you for running through the halls of the French court?”

  “Aye.” Kathryn blinked, her hands moving to close the robe that he fully planned to reopen.

  “Then, the next day, he caught you doing the same thing?”

  “With good cause,” she said, the candle sitting next to the small bed flickering against the wall. Her face was clearly outlined by the dim light, but Neill did not need it to see her. He knew her appearance more and more each day. Could recount every aspect of her face in enough detail for a master to paint her sight unseen.

  “I was being chased.”

  “By a girl whose ribbon you’d stolen.” He took the last step.

  “In jest, after she hid my shoes, making me miss morning mass. For which Father was none too pleased.”

  Neill reached out, cupping her neck with one hand, and waited for her response.

  “And you said . . .”

  “I said if I should be punished for a bit of fun, then I await your punishment.”

  His fingers tangled into the hair at the nape of her neck as he prepared for her objection.

  “This is different,” she whispered, her voice low. “If you and I are connected . . .”

  He pulled her toward him, capturing whatever words she would speak in his mouth. His tongue slashed at her, demanding. Desperate. And she gave back in kind.

  Neill slipped her robe from her shoulders, exposing the thin shift beneath. His hands moved quickly, covering each breast, squeezing ever so gently.

  When she let out a soft sigh, Neill stopped just long enough to remove his own tunic and shirt. Eyes wide, Kathryn moved her hands to his chest, as he’d done to her. He closed his eyes, the feel of her hands on his bare flesh making him hard in an instant.

  “Though we should wait,” he said stupidly.

  She moved one hand toward his stomach, and as it lowered . . .

  Oh God, no.

  He grasped it just before her fingers reached a place from which there would be no return.

  “Aye, we should,” she said with a sigh. “I’ve preserved my maidenhood for this long, and w
e don’t know what the king will say.”

  Neill moved the hand he’d grasped around to his back. Even there, the flesh shivered in anticipation beneath her warm, soft ministrations.

  “It does not matter.”

  And to him, it didn’t. He would take no other woman as his wife.

  He briefly glimpsed her look of surprise before he captured her lips once again. When he pulled away, it was only to lift her shift and wrap her legs around his waist. He moved them to the outside wall, knowing the inside ones were thin. There, with her back propped against the wall, Neill continued to ensure she was ready for him.

  Because Kathryn would become his in truth that night.

  He circled his hips against her, Kathryn mimicking his movements, kissing him back passionately.

  This was reckless. Completely mad.

  Her first time could not be like this. Really, it should not be here, now. He should wait until they had leave to marry. But Neill tightened his hold on her and carried her to the bed. Kneeling over her, he ran his hand up toward her inner thigh but did not stop.

  She did not stop him.

  He felt her readiness for him. This time, he’d not make her come with his hands. Trying to decide if he would undress himself or the beautiful woman beneath him, Neill froze.

  Kathryn looked at him in confusion, obviously not having heard the sound.

  Another knock landed on the door.

  She heard it this time and scrambled off the bed. Neill found his shirt and, tossing it on, made his way to the door.

  “Neill,” came the hushed voice.

  Aylmer.

  He whipped open the door, pulled his friend inside, and closed the door behind him. His long-time friend raised his brows as he watched him put on his shirt, but he did not so much as glance in Kathryn’s direction.

  Good Aylmer.

  “There are men below looking for you.”

  “Men?”

  “The king’s men.”

  “At this hour?”

  “Aye.” He made a face that some would say was borderline treasonous. “’Tis the king. And you’re being reminded that you serve the king’s whims.”

  He knew the truth of it better than most.

  “How did you know to find him here?” Kathryn asked, standing beside him.

  “Only Aylmer knew where I would be,” he answered. Neill pulled his surcoat over his head and turned to Kathryn. “I will be back as soon as I can.”

  She nodded, clearly worried. He left with Aylmer, praying none would see them leave the room, but thankfully, the hallway was empty. They made their way belowstairs, and sure enough, two men bearing the king’s colors stood waiting for him.

  “Twice within a fortnight,” he murmured as they stepped forward.

  If only this meeting went so well as the last.

  * * *

  Neill never returned.

  Kathryn was surprised she slept at all, but as the sun streamed into the small window, she yawned and tossed her legs over the side of the bed. What did it mean? Had he spoken to the king?

  Had Edward denied his request?

  Dressing quickly, she made her way belowstairs, looking for Neill’s men. Aylmer had gone with him, she was sure, but she spotted the others in the corner breaking their fast. About to join them, Kathryn lifted up her skirts and stepped onto the landing. Which was when she spotted him at the entrance.

  They exchanged a look, and he nodded toward the stairs. In silent understanding, she turned around and nearly fled back to her room.

  Kathryn couldn’t sit, so instead she paced back and forth, waiting. What was taking him so long?

  The door opened.

  She knew the moment he entered that the audience had not gone well. Running to him, Kathryn threw her arms around his neck as he embraced her. They stood that way for some time, Kathryn unwilling to let go.

  She worried the embrace may be their last.

  “What did he say?” she finally murmured against his chest. Her head drifted up, and down, as he took a deep breath.

  Before he even answered, Kathryn could feel a pinch in her cheeks, her eyes beginning to well.

  I will not cry.

  But when he pulled away, he kept hold of her. She had a moment of hope. Perhaps it was not as bad as that? If anyone could find a way around the king’s request, surely it was Neill.

  “The king, apparently, does not sleep. He brought us to the palace, and we waited, Aylmer with me, just outside the throne room. Others entered and left as the night grew later and later.”

  “That seems unusual.”

  “Not for Edward. I’ve heard rumors of his preference for such nighttime conferences, but always imagined they were exaggerated.”

  Neill loosened his hold so she could see his face fully now.

  “I made my appeal, and as expected, Edward was not pleased.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said Alexander renewed his pledge of fealty, as expected. And that his counselors have chosen a new warden to replace Caxton.”

  That managed to surprise her. “They did?”

  “Aye. But he insisted that I fulfill my end of the bargain. He proposed a betrothal ceremony in three days’ time.”

  Nay. She shook her head.

  “I told him of Bothwell. About my visit to the Scottish court, though I did not mention your involvement. The king’s lord high chamberlain attempted to aid my cause, insisting our intervention exposed a treachery in the Scottish court which had undermined the peace process.”

  “Alexandar’s oath was delayed because of Bothwell. Surely he realizes the man would have remained in power were it not for you—”

  “Nay, Kathryn. It was not I who uncovered Bothwell’s treachery. ’Twas you.”

  She accepted his words but could focus only on the other information he relayed.

  “Three days . . .”

  “I will not do it.”

  “Neill, you must. You have no choice.” The words felt like poison coming from her mouth, but they needed to be said.

  His jaw was set. His expression, so serious.

  “I cannot be the cause of Caxton remaining in power. Think on it, Neill.”

  “I already have and would have denied him already, but he ordered me from the room before I could do so. But mark my words, Kathryn, I’ll not be swayed from my purpose so easily. I will not marry any woman but you.”

  Kathryn sank to the bed, defeated.

  She had to make him understand.

  “I have to go,” he said abruptly. “Lord Lyndwood learned I was in London and wishes to speak with me.”

  She’d heard the name before. “Lyndwood?”

  “You met Reid Kerr. Lyndwood is his father-in-law. Lady Sara knows him well, though I’ve never met the man. Besides, it would not do for me to be caught here. Especially now. I don’t want you connected to me in any way.”

  He moved to her, but Kathryn shook her head. His touch always made her forget the obstacles between them, and right now she’d do best to remember them. She could not let herself be swayed by him now. She needed to think.

  He cannot do this. I cannot let him do it.

  Chapter 27

  “This way, Sir Neill.”

  He knew little of the man he was about to meet other than what he’d learned from his friends and siblings. The man’s elder daughter, Gillian, was a close friend of Sara’s. Lyndwood Castle was less than a two-day ride from Kenshire, and the women had practically grown up together. Now married to the chief of Clan Scott, Gillian resided with her husband in Scotland. Her sister, Allie, had wed Reid Kerr, who had told Neill much of what he knew of the man before him.

  Neither Reid nor Graeme deSowlis, Gillian’s husband, cared for their father-in-law. They did count him as shrewd, however, and admitted he’d done much to repair his relationship with his daughters after attempting to marry both of them off to an old, though very wealthy, man.

  As the castle steward led him into a bed
chamber in the East Tower of the royal court, far from the throne room where he’d spoken with the king earlier, Neill caught his first glimpse of the man he’d come to meet. Tall. Well-built for his age. Likely no more than sixty. Stern.

  “Lyndwood.”

  The man stood to greet Neill as he approached.

  “The great tournament champion.” Shaking Lyndwood’s hand, he took in their surroundings. From the size of the chamber the man had been given, Neill could determine his connections at court.

  The space was small though well-appointed. Still, Lyndwood was here as Edward’s guest, no small feat. Neill could only assume that his past troubles with the crown, something to do with a rival claim to his title and home, were no longer of consequence.

  “Well met,” he said, taking Lyndwood’s cue to sit. Two goblets waited for them on the small wooden table adorned with a red and gold cloth, the same colors that could be found throughout the royal castle.

  “I heard of your meeting with the king,” Lyndwood said, pouring them both wine from a well-used pitcher.

  “Did you?” he asked, cautious. Lyndwood’s purpose was still unclear.

  “Aye. And asked you here to warn you.”

  Neill took a sip of wine. Red. French.

  “We’re bound together, you and I.”

  Neill disagreed, but remained silent.

  “You might have heard of some of my past decisions . . .”

  He paused, giving Neill an opportunity to refute him, which he did not do.

  “But all that I’ve done was to preserve my home, my land. One that has been in our family since William.”

  “We all make difficult decisions,” he said to be polite. Privately, he thought no piece of property was worth more than family.

  Lyndwood drank deeply, his cheeks already reddening. This was not his first wine of the day. But still, Neill held his tongue, giving the borderer the opportunity to speak his mind. Though he was not inclined to like this man, Lyndwood was a borderer still, and that afforded him some respect.

  “And you’ve one still to make. But I wonder, do you know Lady Alina’s father?”