The Recruit

by Monica McCarty

  Putting the book aside, Mary rushed down the stairs to meet him. She was winded and glowing with exertion by the time she reached the bottom of the third level. She entered the hall at the same time he did from the opposite side. With a cry that told her exactly how worried she’d been about him, she raced into his arms.

  She could hear the reverberation of his laugh in his chest as he lifted her up and spun her in his arms. Still in his embrace, he set her feet back on the ground and pressed a quick kiss on her lips, the brevity of which she suspected was due to their audience. His voice was low and husky. “Miss me?”

  An unexpected threat of tears rose behind her eyes. She seemed to cry at the drop of a pin lately. “Very much. I’m glad you’re back.”

  His face clouded ever so slightly. “Not for long, I’m afraid. I have to return to the castle, but as Huntlywood was on the way, I couldn’t resist a brief stop to check on you.”

  She smiled, trying to hide her disappointment. “As you can see, I’m fine.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” He dropped a kiss on her nose and released her.

  Suddenly conscious of the men standing behind him, and remembering her duties, Mary blushed and immediately arranged for food and drink to be brought out.

  They were seated at the trestle table and halfway through the meal when Kenneth glanced around with a frown. “Where is Sir Adam?”

  “He was called to the castle.”

  “I thought he was leaving tomorrow.”

  “He was. His journey has been delayed a few days.”

  “Why?”

  She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know.”

  “He didn’t say anything? Did something happen?”

  She frowned at the intensity of his questioning. “You’ll have to ask him.”

  “If it’s anything important, I will find out soon.” He tried to dismiss it as if it didn’t matter, but she sensed it did. He was edgy again.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  He lifted his goblet, taking a long drink of wine. “Why do you ask?”

  She shrugged. She couldn’t put her finger on it herself. “You seem preoccupied. As if something is bothering you.”

  “Tired, that is all. And regretting that I cannot delay my return to the castle any longer.”

  Mary held his gaze, wishing she could believe him. “Must you go already?”

  He nodded. “I will return as soon as I am able. What do you have planned—other than cleaning?”

  How did he …

  Suddenly, she blushed, glancing down at her skirts. She’d forgotten all the dust. Her hands went to her hair. “I must look a fright.”

  “You look beautiful.”

  The look in his eyes made her blush deepen for a different reason. “I was cleaning out one of the rooms in the garret for the baby.” She knew she was smiling like an excited child, but she couldn’t help it. “It’s going to be perfect. There’s a nice window where I can put a chair, and a small antechamber for the nursemaid to sleep. I wish that I’d had time to make something myself, but Sir Adam said he has some tapestries I can use for the walls. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

  A shadow crossed his face. “Mary, you know this is only temporary.”

  The gentle reminder made her flush with embarrassment. “I know. It’s just hard not to get carried away a little when I’m so happy.” She thought he would be, too. But he didn’t look happy. He looked a little pained. “I thought you would understand.”

  “Of course I do. I’m sorry. You’re right. I must be more preoccupied than I realized. I should love to see the room, when I return.”

  He seemed so genuinely contrite that she smiled. “I shall put you to work. You can help me move the trunk. It’s the most wonderful thing. I think it must have belonged to Sir Adam’s father.”

  He seemed to go very still beside her. “What makes you say that?”

  “It is filled with the most wonderful treasures from the east. Sir Adam’s father went on crusade many years ago with King Edward.”

  “And my grandfather,” he said carefully.

  “That’s right, I’d forgotten. You must see the journals, then.”

  The cup slid from his hand, but he steadied it before it tipped over. “Journals?” he said hoarsely.

  She nodded, wondering at his strange reaction. “Aye, a whole trunk of them.”

  Kenneth couldn’t believe it. Was it possible the recipe for black powder was hidden in one of those journals? Anxious to investigate, he’d hoped to return later that night. But it wasn’t until the following night that he crept up the staircase of Huntlywood tower.

  With King Edward’s departure from London imminent, the preparations for war had intensified, and Percy was keeping them all busy. Moreover, knowing his time was running out, Kenneth was taking every opportunity to discover what information he could before he had to leave. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the English were planning something secretive and that Clifford was at the center of it.

  Perhaps it was Striker’s warning, but Kenneth also couldn’t shake the feeling that they were watching him. The letter conveniently falling into his hands bothered him. As did Percy’s seemingly innocuous comment that he should have more care the next missive he carried did not get damaged before he arrived. There had been a small crack in the seal after he’d broken it open. It should have gone without notice, but apparently the constable thought it significant enough to report back to him via one of the other men.

  Could Felton have said something to Percy? It wouldn’t surprise him.

  All this added up to one incontrovertible fact: it was time to take Mary to Scotland. Only when she was safe could he extricate himself and the young earl. Her presence had become a liability. It made him vulnerable. If something went wrong, he wanted her far away from here.

  The unexpected delay in Sir Adam’s journey had complicated matters, but the older knight was supposed to depart for France the day after tomorrow. As soon as he did, Kenneth would make his move.

  Kenneth passed the tower chamber where Mary slept on his way to the garret. He knew it must be after midnight. He intended to surprise his wife, but after he searched the trunk.

  There were two doors at the top of the stairs. He chose the one on the right and pushed it open as quietly as he could in case someone was sleeping inside. Fortunately, the room appeared empty. With the shutters closed, it was dark—and cold. The candle he’d brought with him didn’t shed much light, but it would be enough.

  As there were only a few items in the room, he saw the trunk right away, heaving a sigh of relief that it hadn’t been removed.

  It was clear Mary had been busy. The room was spotless: wooden floors swept clean, plastered walls cleaned and brushed with a fresh coat of lime. Even the low angled ceiling looked clean.

  He had to duck as he crossed the room to the trunk. Lifting the lid, he knew at once Mary had been right about the identity of the owner. He recognized the same leather covers of the journal his friend William Gordon had that had burned in the fire all those years ago. A buzz of excitement ran over his skin, crackling like lightning when he saw the sealed pottery jars. Suspecting what they contained, he put one aside to examine later and started in on the journals. He flipped through page after page, looking for anything that might be a recipe or formula. With every minute that passed, his disappointment grew. He’d been so certain, damn it. He was on the third volume when he heard the door behind him open.

  “What are you doing?”

  Damn, it was Mary. He slammed the volume closed and placed it back in the trunk. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

  “My room is just below this one. I thought I heard something. But what are you doing up here?”

  He smiled. “I thought I would move your trunk.”

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “I was curious.”

  She immediately brightened. “To see the baby’s room? You should have woken me. What do you th
ink?”

  He felt a stab of guilt. Her happiness and excitement ate at him. He hadn’t been thinking about the child’s room because he knew it wasn’t going to be the child’s room at all. He looked around the small chamber. “It’s nice.”

  She rolled her eyes, walking toward him. “Nice? It’s perfect. I’m going to put a chair over here,” she pointed to a place before the window, “the cradle will be against the far wall, and the nurse will sleep in the antechamber.”

  Kenneth felt ill. “You have it all planned out.”

  She gave him a funny look. “It won’t be long now. Davey came a few weeks early. Perhaps this baby will do the same.”

  Kenneth hoped the sudden lack of blood in his face wasn’t visible in the candlelight. “I didn’t realize …”

  He’d just assumed. Ah hell, he really had to get her out of here.

  She laughed. “Babies have their own time. They come when they want to, and I just want to be ready.”

  And he was just realizing how unready he was.

  “Is something wrong, Kenneth? Is something bothering you?”

  Something was bothering him all right. She was so damned happy. What he was doing was wrong. He’d created a world of illusions for a woman who’d already had them shattered once before.

  But how was he going to tell her the truth? “I’ve been a bit preoccupied with my duties, that’s all. With the king leaving London, everyone is anxious.”

  “Are you sure that is all?”

  “What else could there be?”

  “I thought it might have something to do with me. Have I done something to displease you?”

  He smiled, caressing her cheek with his hand. “You please me very much.”

  But she wouldn’t be distracted by sensual teasing. She turned her face from his hand. “That isn’t what I was talking about. Have I done something to make you not wish to confide in me? I had hoped you would trust me to share your confidences.”

  “I do trust you.” At least he wanted to. But it was all so new to him. Now that he had her love, he didn’t want to lose it.

  “And I you. I’m sorry I ever doubted you.” She put her palm on his chest and looked up at him, the trust shining in her eyes making his chest knife. “You are nothing like Atholl. I know that now.”

  Kenneth flinched. He wasn’t like Atholl, he was worse. Atholl hadn’t loved her. Atholl hadn’t deceived her.

  He needed to tell her. He probably should have done so before. He thought it was wiser to wait until she was safely in Scotland, as by then it would be too late for her to refuse to go. But if he told her now, he could still keep part of his vow to her. He had to have faith in her. In them. She would be angry at first, but he had to trust that she would understand.

  “If Atholl had given you a choice, Mary, what would you have had him do? Would you have told him to fight with Bruce or with Edward?”

  She blinked up at him in the candlelight, obviously taken aback by his question. “I would have had him protect us.”

  “Aye, but after that. If things were different, what side would you have picked?”

  Her brows furrowed. “What does that matter anymore? The decision was made for me many years ago.”

  “What if it did matter? What if you could go back? What if you and David could be in Scotland with your former brother-in-law right now, would you do it?”

  Her face shadowed. He could tell she was beginning to get annoyed with his questions. “What difference does it make? It’s hypothetical. We are here, making the best out of the situation that we can.”

  “Don’t you want to go home Mary?”

  “Of course I do,” she snapped, finally losing her temper. “I miss my home, as I’m sure you do. But it does me no good to wish for things that aren’t possible.”

  He held her gaze intently. “What if they were?”

  She stilled, her voice lowered to a whisper—as if the walls had ears. “You should not speak that way. It’s dangerous.”

  “I would never let anything happen to you, Mary. You know that, don’t you?”

  Her eyes raked his face. “Why are you talking to me like this? What are you trying to tell me?”

  “That it’s time to go home.”

  Twenty-four

  Mary stared at him, at first not understanding what he was saying. But a dark shadow of premonition had begun to creep its way up her consciousness. “I can’t go home. King Edward would never allow it.”

  “Edward won’t know. Not until it’s too late, anyway.”

  Fear washed over her. She shook her head. “No. I lost my sister the last time I tried to flee. Why are you talking this way? Has something happened? Is Sir John making it difficult for you? Surely, it couldn’t be so bad as to make you question your loyalty?”

  He didn’t say anything, and all of a sudden the truth hit her. Loyalty.

  She drew back in horror, understanding sinking like a stone in her gut. She knew why he’d been asking her all those strange questions earlier. Why his sudden shift of allegiance hadn’t made sense. Why he’d talked so fondly about a brother he was supposed to hate.

  “Oh God.” She covered her mouth, feeling sick. Betrayal ripped inside her like a jagged knife. “You never changed allegiance, did you? You are working for Robert.”

  She inched back, but he reached out to catch her arm. “Mary, wait. Let me explain.”

  Heat choked her throat, hurt and disbelief filled her eyes with tears. “Explain what? That you deceived me?”

  “I had no choice. I probably shouldn’t even be telling you this, but I made you a vow.”

  Anger helped to forestall the tears. She made a harsh sound of disbelief. “It’s rather late to remember that, isn’t it? You promised not to embroil me or my children in anything dangerous, but you did that the moment you forced me to marry you.”

  From the glint in his eyes, she could tell he took exception to her choice of words. “I couldn’t tell you then. Not when I wasn’t sure of your feelings for me.”

  A second wave of understanding hit, this one even harder than the first—if that were possible. “And now you are,” she said numbly. “I see. Was that why you went to such an effort to seduce me? So that I would follow you willingly like one of your starry-eyed admirers when the time came?”

  Had he ever loved her?

  Thin white lines appeared around his mouth. “I will not deny that I wanted you to come with me, and I thought it would be easier if you cared for me, but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. I love you, Mary. I’ve never said those words to another woman in my life. Hell, I never even thought it possible for me to feel this way about a woman.”

  Bile rose to the back of her throat. God, it was true. He had set out to make her fall in love with him. She’d thought it was a game, but it was an even bigger one than she imagined. The stakes weren’t just her heart, but her life and the lives of her children. Her heart curled like a piece of burning parchment.

  How could he have made love to her all those times, knowing what he was going to do?

  “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” she said hoarsely, her voice raw with emotion. “ ‘I betrayed you. I lied to you. I used you. But I love you, so it’s all right?’ ”

  A muscle in his jaw pulsed. “I deserve your anger but not your scorn. What choice did I have?”

  “You could have told me the truth.”

  “And what would you have done with that knowledge? Could I be sure you wouldn’t run to Sir Adam or someone else and tell them the truth? You made your opinion of me quite clear many times. People are counting on me; I couldn’t take the chance.”

  She turned away. “Then you should have left me alone.”

  “I couldn’t do that. I wanted you. And you were pregnant with my child.”

  “And what about my other child? Where does Davey fit in all this? I assume it would be quite a coup for you to bring the Earl of Atholl back into the Scottish fold.”

  He stif
fened, not flinching from the truth. “Once I get you to safety, I will follow with David.”

  Terror struck her heart. She shook her head frantically. “No. It’s too dangerous. They are watching him too closely. They will not let you slip out of Berwick Castle with the Earl of Atholl.”

  “I have a plan. Trust me.”

  She had, and look where that had gotten her. Was she doomed to have her life destroyed by thoughtless husbands reaching for glory? He’d thrust her right back into a nightmare and never considered her at all. She’d put her fate in a man’s hands again and he’d betrayed her.

  She squared her shoulders. “You ask for too much. Davey won’t go, and neither will I.”

  His mouth drew even tighter, and Mary knew he was fighting to keep a rein on his temper. “Your son is a Scottish earl, Mary. He belongs in Scotland. Yet sounds as bloody English as Edward.”

  She prickled, perhaps because she knew there was more than a grain of truth in what he said. Had she not thought the same thing many times? But it didn’t matter. She would rather have David in England alive than in prison or with his head hanging in the same place as his father’s. “It is for me to decide what is best for myself and my son, not you.”

  His eyes flashed. “Wrong. You gave me that power when you married me. I vowed to protect you, and I will. You will just have to trust me.”

  “And if I refuse to go, what then, Kenneth? Will you take me against my will? Abduct your own wife?”

  His mouth fell in a hard line. “I will do what I have to to keep you safe. Don’t you see? There is no other way. When the truth is discovered I will be a hunted man, and you will be the wife of a traitor.”

  “A position I’ve been in before, if you’ll recall. I weathered one traitor well enough, why should I not weather another?”

  His gaze burned into hers. “You don’t mean that.”

  “Don’t I?” It was the same nightmare all over again. How could he do this to her? How could he have put her—them—in this position? She couldn’t go through it again, she couldn’t.

  “You love me. When your anger cools you will see that this is for the best.”