’Twas certainly no hardship to do so.
The knowledge of how deeply he’d been disturbed by their kiss was nothing he cared to dwell upon. Mayhap the prioress was even more intelligent than he realized for insisting they marry. If a simple kiss could turn him inside out, what might a sennight of them do? He’d be at his wit’s end by the time they returned to Berwick.
He guided Alec further in his duties, trying not to overwhelm the lad but wanting to find a way to explain it so Alec might anticipate what Braden needed.
“You have two duties. The first is to care for my needs and those of my equipment, from my horse to my shield. The second is to train as a knight, meaning learn the code of chivalry, horsemanship, weaponry, and bravery.”
Alec’s shoulders wilted at Braden’s explanation. “How can I possibly learn all that in a day or two?”
“You can’t. But you can pretend to.”
“How do you mean?”
“Watch the other squires who will be at Graham’s and do as they do. Watch how they serve their masters at meals, how they care for the horses, how they act around others. Follow their lead, and you will have few missteps.”
The boy was a natural around horses, no doubt having had some experience. Braden believed Alec would remember more as he worked. There must’ve been many squires when William had served as governor of Berwick. With an entire garrison of knights and soldiers, squires would’ve been plentiful.
Braden showed Alec where to pitch the tent by finding a level spot with few rocks near the fire then helped him set up the bedding for the night. They’d make do with placing the straw mattresses on the ground and wait until they arrived to assemble the basic bed frame.
Alec studied the tent where they’d set two pallets. “Where am I to sleep?”
“By the fire so you can continue to feed it through the night.”
“That hardly seems fair.”
Braden shared a smile with Ilisa. “Such is a squire’s life.”
“You’ll soon be waiting on us hand and foot,” Ilisa teased. “I look forward to that day.”
“Humph.” Alec scowled as he set out the dried meat, bread, and cheese that would suffice as their supper.
Since they were all tired from the day’s ride, they ate the simple fare with limited conversation. Alec piled additional wood near the fire and laid out his own blankets.
“We should all seek our beds,” Braden suggested. “The morrow will be a long day as well.”
Alec didn’t have to be told twice and quickly settled under the covers.
Braden saw to the horses one last time to give Ilisa time to prepare for bed without him watching. And to give himself a stern lecture on keeping his hands off his new wife.
Even the term—wife—had desire coursing through him. Now he questioned the prioress’s insistence on marrying them. As Braden had worried, part of his brain seemed to believe he now had permission to act as a husband would. To enjoy the feel of her in his arms once more.
Though he could easily pull his bedding from inside and sleep near the fire, he needed to learn to deal with spending the night beside Ilisa. He’d have to do so when they arrived at Graham’s. Guests would be expected to see to their own shelter as well as many of the meals, which meant the two of them would be spending a fair amount of time together.
It would be an interesting sennight. He nearly scoffed at the understatement. With a stretch to his sore shoulder, he stepped inside the tent, wishing it was bigger. Much bigger.
Chapter Nine
Braden woke first the next morn, pleased to find a safe distance between he and Ilisa. Despite how much he longed to have her in his arms, doing so when both their defenses were down would not be honorable. Yet the memory of holding her warm curves against him had him clenching his teeth.
One night behind him, far too many ahead. Surely if he could do it once, he could do it again. His reassurances to himself did not ease his worry.
He stepped out of the tent, breathing in the crisp air, noting Alec was still tucked under the blanket near the dying embers of the fire. Though the sky was overcast, the clouds were not heavy with rain but higher, lighter. Another good day to travel—neither too warm nor too cool. Based on the directions the prioress had shared, they should arrive at Graham’s on the morrow.
His shoulder was stiff and aching, a reminder that he was far from fully recovered. He could only hope he didn’t have to wield his sword any time soon.
Since Ilisa and Alec still slept, he retrieved the weapon then moved away a short distance to swing it in one hand, then the other, back and forth, thrusting and lifting. Any movement he could think of to loosen the tightness in his body, taking care to move quietly so as not to waken Ilisa and Alec. A fine sweat soon beaded his brow.
“That’s a big improvement over five days’ past.”
He turned to see Ilisa nearby, a blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders. How long had she been watching him?
“It certainly feels better, but I fear I have a long way yet to go.” He took the sword in the opposite hand, easily maneuvering it whereas holding it with his weak arm was much more difficult.
“I can hardly lift it with two hands.” She kept her voice low, shaking her head as though truly puzzled. “Yet you do it so easily with just one.”
“Much of a knight’s day is spent training. A sword is just one of the weapons with which we practice.” Braden rested, more than willing to halt his training if Ilisa was speaking.
“Do you joust?”
“I do, though Chanse is much better at it than I.”
“The two of you train together?”
“As often as time permits. We practice combat of all types.”
“No wonder everything is a competition with you and him.”
Braden couldn’t help but smile. “Our constant wagering makes our mother crazed.”
That made Ilisa smile as well. “Do you have a warhorse?”
Alec had risen as they spoke, listening to their quiet conversation as he rolled up his bedding.
“Aye. A large black destrier.” His father was looking after him. No doubt Chanse would also ensure the horse’s good health while he was home, or he’d never hear the end of it from Braden.
“Does he have a name?” Ilisa asked.
“Dark Storm.”
“Oh, I like that name,” Alec said with a nod of approval.
“Was he born in a storm?” Ilisa asked.
“Nay.” Braden lifted a shoulder, somewhat embarrassed by the conversation. But if she knew more about him, mayhap it would remove some of the distance between them. Mayhap she’d see he was not only a knight but a person as well. “I just liked the name.”
Alec asked additional questions about their training, about his family, and his life in England, while Ilisa returned to the tent to prepare for the journey.
Braden answered each one, realizing he also needed to improve his bond with Alec so the boy could act convincingly as his squire. He didn’t know if Ilisa continued to listen but hoped she did.
“You’d like my father and mother, and they would like both of you.” Braden had no doubt. “My father loves to jest, much like Chanse, which is a good trait as my mother tends to be far too serious.” That was something he worked hard to guard against as well. Granted, the seriousness came hand-in-hand with the gift they shared.
“How did they come to be together?” Alec asked as he and Braden readied the horses.
Braden chuckled. “They didn’t meet under the best of circumstances. My father was charged with taking my mother to her new guardian. She didn’t want to go.”
“Why?”
“Because she believed he’d killed her mother.”
Alec’s hands slowed, and his eyes grew wide. “Was she right?”
“She was. But the man was a bishop, so my father thought it couldn’t be true.”
Ilisa peeked her head out of the tent, her hair neatly plaited. “How brave of your
mother.”
Braden told them other stories as they packed up camp, loaded the cart and horses, and started on the road. Ilisa and Alec shared a few tales, though from what he could tell, their lives had been spent aiding their brother William in his duties as governor and seeing to the people of the city.
Why so many had turned on them after the siege was surprising. All those years of service by the Douglas family gone in a moment because of what some thought William had done.
Though he had many questions about the days of the siege and what happened afterward, he held them. He didn’t want to put either of them through bad memories merely to satisfy his curiosity. He’d pieced together enough details during his stay in Berwick to know that many thought their brother William had opened the gates to the king and his knights.
That made no sense to Braden. But it was difficult to say what had happened. Had the king promised to spare the people who lived there if William opened the gates? Had William hoped to convince the king they had no issue with England by making the gesture of opening the city to him?
Or was it all false, a rumor started by those who resented William for some reason? Perhaps even Lord Graham?
William had lost everything—his position as governor, his wife and son, his brother and sisters. He might yet lose his life. As long as events were unsettled in Berwick and other areas near the border, his fate remained uncertain.
That was one more reason this mission was important. It might very well save the life of Sir William Douglas.
The day quickly passed as they continued talking off and on. The scenery was beautiful, giving Braden an even greater appreciation for Scotland.
Alec behaved perfectly, calling him Sir Hugh each time he spoke to him. Once again, Braden recognized the signs when weariness struck Ilisa, though not a word of complaint passed her lips.
When he called for them to halt for the night, Ilisa closed her eyes briefly as if relieved. She’d been sore the previous evening, so he knew she’d be in worse shape now.
He lifted her from her horse, noting the pain flickering over her expression as she moved her stiff legs. Rather than set her on her feet, he shifted so as to carry her in his arms.
“Oh, but—” She stopped her protest before it passed her lips. Though he knew it was only because she was trying to remember to act as though they were married, he was still pleased she didn’t demand to be set down. To his surprise, she placed an arm over his shoulder. “Are you certain this isn’t harming you?”
“You weigh little more than a feather.”
“Ha,” Alec said with a laugh. His sister glared at him in response, causing Alec to laugh harder.
Braden carried her to a nearby rock so she could sit and stretch her legs at her own pace rather than walking immediately. He set her down, giving in to the urge to rub her shoulders, testing her reaction to him.
He nearly scoffed. Now he lied to himself. He just enjoyed touching her. Admitting it didn’t make him feel any less guilty.
After a moment, her body relaxed under his gentle touch. “My thanks. That feels much better.”
“Rise slowly when you do. Walking will ease the stiffness as well.”
“I’m certain ’tis been many years since you’ve felt this way after riding.”
“Anyone who spends a long day in the saddle is going to be stiff.” He ran a hand along her back then forced himself to step away before he did something that pushed her too far.
He and Alec made camp while Ilisa eased her stiffness by searching for firewood. With few stones in the area, they dug a pit in the ground for the fire, making sure no brush was nearby. Wood was sparse as well but dried grass tightly bundled would help. Hopefully, the night wouldn’t prove too cool. Soon the tent was pitched, and the bedding spread out. If alone, Braden wouldn’t have bothered with the tent. But Alec needed the practice of putting it up, and Ilisa would appreciate the cover it offered.
“On the morrow, we’ll have a hot, filling meal upon our arrival,” Braden told them as they settled around the fire to eat dried meat and bread once again. Though the flames were small due to the lack of fuel, the cheery glow was welcome.
“How many guests do you think will be at this gathering?” Alec asked as he poked the fire with a stick, sending small sparks into the air.
“From what the prioress said, quite a few. Our goal will be to become acquainted with as many as possible.”
“Alec and I have never been to a gathering like this,” Ilisa said. “Since we lived in a market city, there was rarely a need to travel.”
“What activities will they have?” the boy asked.
Ilisa looked at Braden with curiosity as well. “’Tis hard to say. It might be much like a fair with vendors selling different types of food and others selling wares. The tournament will no doubt bring in many. The knights will fight with blunted weapons to avoid serious injuries. They might compete individually or be divided into teams. A joust could be included if Lord Graham has the place to hold it. Some lords have a permanent list field but not all. Have either of you witnessed a tournament?”
“Nay,” Ilisa said as she shared a look with Alec. “William participated in a few in his youth but felt his time was better spent serving the people of Berwick.”
“Why do they hold such tournaments?” Alec asked. “It seems like a waste of a knight’s time.”
“Tournaments keep knights in fighting condition, make certain their training has prepared them for battle, and give them the chance to earn funds.”
“Have you participated in many?”
“Several each year. Most are the friendly sort.”
“But not all?” Ilisa asked.
“It depends on the competitors. If your sworn enemy is one of the combatants, it changes the atmosphere entirely.”
“What else will they do at the gathering?” Alec asked.
“Often there is a feast along with music and dancing if the lord holding the tournament is wealthy.”
“Ilisa and Sophia are excellent dancers.”
“Alec,” Ilisa said, her tone full of doubt. “It has been many years since we’ve done any dancing.”
“The two of you should practice,” Alec suggested with a grin. At Ilisa’s questioning look, he quickly added, “Since you’re married, you would’ve danced many times, right?”
“He speaks the truth.” Braden rose, ignoring the voice in his head that insisted he only did this to have an excuse to hold Ilisa again. His dancing was far from perfect. Chanse was a better dancer. Better, in fact, with everything regarding the ladies.
The look Ilisa gave him—as though she thought him crazed—had his face heating. Normally, only his mother managed to bring out that sensation in him.
“There’s no music.” Her weak protest suggested that if he pressed a little more, he’d win a dance with her. He’d much prefer their first effort to be here with no one other than Alec watching than in front of Graham and all his guests.
“Alec?” Braden wasn’t about to back down now. “Can you do the honors?”
The lad stood with a grin then gave a bow. The expression he gave his sister made clear his joy at making her uncomfortable. “’Twould be my honor.”
Braden walked over to Ilisa and offered her his hand. “My lady?”
“Oh dear heavens.” She shook her head but placed her hand in his.
He led her away from the fire. “I’ve never had the chance to dance with anyone as beautiful as you.”
“Aren’t you the charming one.” To his delight, she laughed, the sound trickling along his soul like a cool, refreshing brook, both gentle and appealing. He stilled in surprise. “What?” she asked.
“I don’t believe I’ve ever heard you laugh. You should do so more often.”
She only smiled in response, which was a treasure as well, for she offered few of them.
Alec began humming a song with a basic rhythm in an off-key tone. He swayed to keep a steady rhythm to his music—or
rather, his attempt to do so.
Braden grasped her hand more tightly and lifted it high in the air. They both dipped, then stepped in a slow circle, paused to clap once, then turned in the opposite direction, repeating the steps. Next came quick, intricate footwork that moved them forward. They released hands, turned, then made the same pattern to return to where they’d started.
Her movements were graceful, performing the steps as though she’d done so just yesterday. Her kirtle swept around her body as she turned, adding to her appeal. The way she stepped forward then back captivated him.
As the dance continued, Braden became less self-conscious as to where he placed his feet and more focused on her. He held her gaze, something the dance required, and all else fell away. In that moment, he longed to know what her thoughts held. Did she still only see him as an English knight? Or did she see the man beneath?
“Sir Hugh?” she asked.
He stared at her, confused for a brief moment, only to realize Alec had stopped humming several moves ago. Ilisa stopped and slowly pulled away her hand, her expression unreadable. She was playing a role, the same as he. How could he have forgotten what he’d been lecturing them about for the past two days?
“Well done.” He turned away, rubbing his hand over his chest at the sudden pang there, afraid he’d reveal emotions he shouldn’t be feeling. “We should be able to fool them. Let us seek our beds. ’Twas a long day.”
Obviously, he was the one who needed to remember his place. They might be man and wife in the eyes of the world—and God—but Ilisa was not his in any way that mattered.
~*~
Ilisa breathed deeply as Lord Graham’s holding came into view shortly after midday, bringing panic along with it. When that did little to calm her nerves, she looked at Braden, wanting to be reassured this wasn’t a terrible mistake.
As though sensing her regard, he met her gaze, seeming to immediately sense her concern. “All will be well. We are prepared.”
If only she shared his confidence.
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