by Sherry Ewing
She had been closeted in Amiria’s solar for what seemed like hours while Ella had speech with Lady Jenna, another one of those women from the future. They seemed to be showing up on a regular basis to fall in love with Berwyck’s knights.
That had been several days ago. He had watched Ella from afar, keeping his heart where it belonged even while his mind pined away for her, as he did now, he in his place in the Great Hall, and she at the high table with Amiria. His mind continued roaming back to the first time he had seen Ella years ago, stumbling into the outer bailey with another woman as her companion. Killian was surprised to learn upon Lady Katherine’s return to Berwyck that she had barely escaped her early demise from the evil plotting of her husband’s ex-mistress. With Ella’s help, she had fled back to Berwyck to seek shelter and from that time forward, Ella had traveled through its gates for many years.
This time, she and Killian had arrived together, but Killian was left feeling Ella’s absence more than ever while his heart craved to be near her again. She seemed to be going out of her way to avoid him of late.
Ella looked up from her trencher and their gazes met. Did he but imagine her soft brown eyes widening when she noticed he had been staring at her or was this just his imagination running amuck? He nodded to her, raising his tankard in a silent toast before taking a sip and setting the mug back down upon the table. A slight smile rushed across her face before she returned her attention to her meal while her conversation with Lady Amiria resumed.
A sarcastic chuckle to his right caused Killian to ponder the knight next to him. Ulrick de Mohan swiped his sleeve across his lips.
Killian glared.
“What?” Ulrick muttered, trying to keep the smirk off his face but failing.
“Ye had something tae say tae me?” Killian all but growled, not wishing any jesting at his expense.
“You should go have speech with her,” Ulrick replied. Of a sudden, he appeared serious. “You would not wish for someone else to occupy her time now, would you?”
“I do not know what ye are speaking about, lad.” As Killian reached again for his ale, he noticed the table had grown eerily quiet.
“Lad?” Ulrick laughed. “I am no lad nor have I any notion of why you continue to consider us so. Have we not earned our spurs and proven our worth in the time we have defended these walls?” He gave Killian a nudge with his shoulder even as a chorus of hear hears was accompanied by several of Dristan’s personal guard slamming tankards upon the table in agreement.
“Mayhap we must needs prove our worth in the lists to the old man… again,” Bertram, who was their captain, announced.
Killian frowned. “I am not so old that I still cannot best all of ye.”
“Best listen to our elders, lads,” Nathaniel called out. Laughter erupted from the knights.
Drake raised his chalice. “Plenty of daylight still. I accept the challenge.”
“Nay! Not this eve,” bellowed Turquine, as he gave a swat to the bottom of a pretty wench who refilled his tankard. “I have other more pleasurable ways to spend the night. The morn will come soon enough.”
“I agree with my brother,” Taegan added, “not that I have to prove myself. I, too, have plans to spend the eve with a woman who is sure to be kept busy ’til the early morn.”
The men began hassling and jesting Taegan since all knew he had once favored a wench he thought was a virgin, yet the whole company had had a turn with her. Killian only cared the attention went to another. He did not wish to be ridiculed by his comrades in arms and all because of a woman he would never have.
The meal ended and the dishes were cleared while minstrels began playing for the lord and lady of the keep. Killian held out his tankard to be refilled. His mood had not improved with a full belly. Nor was drink going to change his disposition. He watched a member of the clan ask permission to dance with Ella. Dristan nodded his approval, along with the lady, and they moved to the center of the hall to begin the detailed patterns of the dance.
“You can still claim the Lady Ella,” Ulrick said taking a sip of his drink. “’Tis not too late.”
“Ye are wrong on that account,” Killian answered beneath his breath before a heavy sigh of defeat left him unexpectedly.
“’Tis plain to see you favor her.”
“I said no such thing.”
Ulrick laughed. “You did not have to, my friend. Your appearance speaks for itself.”
“What is wrong with the way I look?” Killian snarled before looking down upon his clothes to see what was out of place.
“Hair cut and combed, beard gone, and wearing your best tunic tells everyone here of your plans to court some fair lady,” Ulrick winked with a wicked smile. “You should make haste. Go and claim the Lady Ella.”
His innards clenched into knots when he saw her dance partner place his hand lower than Killian thought was respectful. “Can ye not see for yerself she is already spoken for?”
“I am not necessarily speaking about who she is dancing with at this very moment, my friend.”
Killian looked upon the younger man next to him. “Aye, she is spoken on that account as well,” he grumbled. His disposition soured further with this discussion.
“Is she?”
“Of course, she is, ye fool. I have spent time with the lady in the past but all who reside here at Berwyck knows the lady is but waiting for a certain point in time for her tae be reunited with the one she loves.”
“Mayhap she knows not what she wants. She’s been wandering the land for many a year. People change,” Ulrick stated with a knowing look.
“Not when they are in love.”
“And yet she has not been near nor seen this man for how long?” he asked. “Perchance her fate has altered and she does not even know this as yet. I think Lady Katherine would probably say this is something akin to star-crossed lovers or some such rot from one of her love stories.”
“Leave it be, lad,” Killian muttered into his drink.
Ulrick shrugged, standing to leave the table. “’Tis your choice, but if you have any feelings for the lady, now would be the time to profess them before ’tis too late.”
“I never said I had feelings for the woman.”
“Again… you did not have to,” Ulrick repeated with a slap upon Killian’s back before he took his leave to join the dancing.
As Killian watched Ella being escorted back to the head table, he downed his drink. He had never been one to turn down a challenge, not that Ulrick dared him to do something repulsive. He stood and began making his way through the hall. After all, how horrible could it be to ask the woman for just one dance?
Chapter 3
Ella’s nerves were on edge. That must be why she was feeling so anxious when she noticed Killian making his way across the hall. She reached for her chalice of wine, her fingers trembling before she managed to wrap them around the cup to take a sip without the heady red liquid spilling all over her gown. Perchance she should excuse herself and seek her chamber to rest. That was all she needed. She just had to go and rest before she left Berwyck forevermore to finally meet her destiny.
“He favors you,” Amiria’s voice was a soft whisper barely heard above the lutes playing in her hall.
There was no point in denying that she knew whom Amiria meant. “You are mistaken,” Ella replied taking another sip from her goblet before setting it upon the table. She clutched her hands together upon her lap, her knuckles quickly becoming white. Her heart tapped a ferocious beat inside her chest. This was not happening! Not when she was this close to being reunited with the one man she had crossed time for.
Amiria reached over to clasp her hands, giving them a slight squeeze. Ella turned to look upon her friend, who had given her shelter more times than she could count over the years. Amiria was a beautiful woman with flaming red hair and eyes of violet. She reminded Ella of a Viking shield maiden of old, since Amiria could wield a sword as no other woman of Ella’s acquaintance.
&
nbsp; “I have waited many a year for some woman to catch his eye,” Amiria replied, her tone conveyed all the love she felt for the man who had watched over her like her father would have done if he yet lived.
Ella saw Killian’s progress was interrupted when he began having speech with Gregory, another of Dristan’s knights. “I have not caught his eye, my lady. Besides you know my fate lies in another direction.”
Amiria sighed, leaning over towards her husband when he whispered in her ear. She began to rise but bent over to kiss Ella’s cheek. “Be kind to him, Ella. I do not wish to see him hurt.”
Before Ella could make any reply, Amiria left to dance with her husband. They were an impressive pair, the two of them, and she was happy the couple twirling across the floor had found true love. Everyone deserved to find the person who called to them, soul to soul, Ella included.
Killian stood in front of the table clearing his throat, bringing her back to the challenge before her. “Mayhap ye would favor me with a dance, Ella?”
He appeared nervous, but the smile she gave him was genuine when he willingly dropped the whole lady business and called her only by her first name. “Aye, of course, Killian.”
His faced showed the briefest glimpse of relief before a mask of indifference fell into place. He came around the table, gave a courtly bow, and then offered his arm. Hesitant, but curious if she would have the same reaction as when she had touched him earlier, she placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. Her breath hitched at their contact. How could this be happening? She did not understand what was going on with the man who began ushering her through the patterns of a lively tune.
The other dancers upon the floor became a blur, her partner the only one who remained in focus. Each time they came together and touched, small sparks flowed like the sweetest nectar through her body. The sensation warmed her entire being, making it hard to remember the steps of the dance. Her wits surely must be addled as she continued to gaze into the hypnotizing eyes of her partner.
Killian was an accomplished dancer, of that there could be no doubt, despite him always showing the outside world a gruff appearance. He took her by the waist and lifted her high while the dance continued, his arms of steel more than capable of easily picking her up as though she weighed nothing at all. As he lowered her back to the floor, her eyes widened as she slid down his body. Her hands remained on his shoulders as they just stood there, the dance all but forgotten.
“Ella, I—”
The door of the keep slammed open, causing all eyes to turn in the direction to see who would enter Lord Dristan’s domain with such a loud ruckus. It was him! He had found her! Her fingers clenched in Killian’s tunic to keep herself from falling to the ground. Was the room suddenly stifling with heat? She wavered on unsteady legs, feeling faint for the first time in her life. Yet, Killian came to her rescue, sweeping his arm around her waist before she fell when her knees began to buckle.
“Let me help ye, Ella,” his voice held nothing but concern as they made their way to a chair against the wall. Calling for wine, he thrust the chalice in her direction once the goblet was filled. The wine sloshed over the rim and he cursed his clumsiness when the red wine barely missed her gown. “My apologies,” he muttered, worry etched upon his face.
Taking the goblet, she gulped at the wine. Between trying to catch her breath and attempting to swallow, she began to choke on the drink. Killian started patting her back as though this would help but ’twas a bit too forceful to be of much use. “Killian, please…” she gasped while holding out her hand for him to stop. Her eyes darted about the room once she could breathe again, and yet a sense of panic radiated from every fiber of her being. She was anything but calm.
“I must be an imbecile tae think I could offer ye some form of aid without doing ye harm,” he said with furrowed brow.
“’Tis not a matter of you not helping me, but please, I beg of you, do not leave my side.”
He muttered words beneath his breath before his eyes traveled to the knight who had made his way to the lord and lady of the keep. “Ye know of him?” he asked, and Ella could see for herself he was sincere in his worry for her well-being.
“Yes,” she answered, only to realize she had carelessly used modern speech. Her eyes widened in fright. Her body began to tremble and Killian took one of her hands in his. He began rubbing his callused thumb across its back, calming her nerves only a bit but still offering soothing relief all the same.
“I shall keep ye safe, Ella.” Killian pulled her closer while her whole body began to shake. He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Who is he?”
Ella raised her eyes to the Scotsman sitting beside her, knowing in her heart he would keep her from harm. A heavy sigh escaped her when she realized her past life had finally caught up with her.
“He’s my son.”
Chapter 4
Faramond of Hull bowed low before the lord of Berwyck Castle. He had not traveled this far north to just pay a friendly visit to a man known for his skill upon the battlefield. Nay, not this day. He had no time for such pleasantries and he was beyond tired of traveling from castle to castle bowing low before other lords when he himself was their equal.
He was on a mission of grave import and that was to bring his errant mother home. ’Twas of no matter he thought of her as the witch he called her all those years ago. His opinion of her had not changed.
She was a witch. She had cast a spell on his father, so that he had placed Faramond in the hands of a man who… Faramond would not think of it.
His only reason for continuing his quest to find his dame was to marry her off according to the king’s demands so that he could reclaim his lands and the fortune held by his king if he were to succeed!
For nigh unto ten summers, Faramond had been considered only a steward of his own damn castle while he searched for the woman who had given him life. How one woman evaded him for so long was beyond his ken, and if he did not find her soon, all would be forfeit. He refused to lose after all he had schemed and accomplished to keep his holdings in his name. Nothing would stand in his way, and this included his missing mother.
“My lord and lady, I am Faramond of Hull,” he announced when he rose from his courtly bow. “I thank you for receiving me.”
“All are welcome here at Berwyck. You are far from home, Sir Faramond. What brings you so close to Scotland’s borders?” Dristan asked while sipping his wine.
His teeth clenched at the lack of title. ’Twas obvious the man before him was no fool and knew of him. “I do not wish to take you away from your evening festivities but I am here on a matter of urgency.”
“And what, pray tell, is of such import?” The Dragon of Berwyck stood, shared a look with his lady, before moving around the raised dais to stand before Faramond. He was an opposing figure but Faramond would not show any sign of weakness.
“I pray you may know of the whereabouts of my mother, the Lady Ella of Hull. Is she perchance in residence here at Berwyck?” he asked, hoping his face showed concern instead of the contempt he felt for the witch.
“Nay, I know not of any woman who goes by the name of Lady Ella,” Dristan replied. Steel grey eyes peered at him as though he could see Faramond’s true reason for seeking his mother.
“I am most worried for her safety. She has gone missing for many a year.”
“I am sorry I am unable to help you locate her, but you are welcome to join us. I am sure Cook can get you something to eat if you are hungry, or I can have a chamber readied for you for the night.”
Faramond gazed about the hall. “Food and a place to rest would be most welcome, my lord, before I continue my quest come the morn.”
“Then come. Let me find you a table so you may eat your fill while I send a servant to stoke the fire in a room for you.”
Lord Dristan left him no alternative but to follow along, but Faramond would do his own searching come the morn before he traveled on to the next castle. He would find his mother or d
ie trying.
Chapter 5
Killian moved to stand before Ella. She was uneasy when she witnessed her son having speech with Dristan. ’Twas apparent she had no wish to see him, and Killian was more than happy to block her from her son’s view. Dristan took the man to the far end of the hall while Killian continued to keep a wary eye on him.
Amiria rose and gave him a nod towards the turret stairs, which she began to climb. As a servant passed near at hand, Killian halted her from her task. “Fira, be a good lass and let me borrow yer shawl.”
“Ye shall return it?” she asked while fingering the faded fabric. “’Twas my mother’s.”
“Aye, ye have my word.”
The young woman unfastened the knot that had kept the garment in place and handed it over to Killian. He quickly placed the soft wool over Ella’s head. “Come with me,” he ordered, keeping his arm around her shoulder and guiding her towards the turret stairs.
Once out of sight and on the third floor of the keep, Killian turned towards Ella, whose eyes widened when he pushed her up against the stone wall of the passageway. “Ye have a son? Why in God’s name, woman, are ye wandering around the countryside all these years if ye have a son who would protect ye?”
“Stop shouting at me, Killian,” she seethed.
“I am not shouting!”
“Aye, you are! I am not someone to be man handled or bullied into submitting to your questions like one of the knights you train upon the lists.” She pushed at the arm he had holding her in place ’til he at last released her.
He remained standing close to her side, giving her no alternative but to listen to him. Considering just moments before she had fear scattered across her lovely face, he saw no evidence of such weakness now. Her lips were pursed together as though she was battling whether or not she should continue to berate him. Killian had a hard time trying not to laugh while she attempted to contain her anger. She never appeared more beautiful.