To Tempt a Knight

by Gerri Russell

  With the Spear of Destiny clutched in one hand and his Templar tunic in the other, William stood before Archbishop Lamberton at the altar of Saint Giles’s Church in Edinburgh.

  “So good to see you again, Sir William,” the archbishop said, smiling a greeting. “I’ve missed our long discussions since you left Edinburgh.”

  “Important things drew me away.”

  He nodded. “I am aware of your attempted journey to the Holy Land and the outcome of that battle. I prayed quite diligently for your safe return.”

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  “What brings you back to my altar?”

  William cast a glance over his shoulder at Siobhan as she stood at the back of the church. Sunlight shone through the stained glass behind her, stroking her auburn hair with flame.

  A pang of tenderness stirred within him. He knew what he wanted. He’d never been more certain of anything in his whole life.

  “We have much to discuss,” William said, turning to face the holy man, who was dressed in a black cassock. The archbishop had a deeply creased, heavily jowled face, with clear and kind blue eyes.

  “Indeed we have,” he said with a touch of awe as his gaze shifted between William’s face and the Spear. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Aye. The Longinus Spear, the Spear of Destiny, the Holy Lance. Call it what you will. The Templars have kept this artifact hidden for many years. It’s time to send it home. And although the pope may see me as a criminal, I still hold the Church in the highest esteem. I want the Spear returned to Rome, where the Vatican can oversee its care and protection.”

  The archbishop’s jaw slackened. “You found the Templar treasure.”

  William smiled. “All of it.”

  “And you need my help because…?”

  “I trust you more than any other to see to the Spear’s safe return.”

  “You honor me, William.” His brow creased as his gaze searched William’s face. “There is more to your story than you are telling me. In your eyes I see more happiness than I’ve witnessed in many a year. But sorrow still lingers there as well.”

  William released a soft, almost inaudible sigh. In the five years that he’d spent at court, he’d visited his friend the archbishop on a weekly basis. “You could always read me better than anyone else.”

  “I doubt that still holds true.”

  At the archbishop’s laughter, William smiled.

  “Is Siobhan the reason for your happiness?” the holy man asked, his gaze seeking her out at the back of the church.

  William nodded.

  “What do you desire?” the archbishop asked, returning his gaze to William.

  He held out his Templar tunic. “To renounce my vows to the Templars.”

  The archbishop nodded and a look of understanding filled his gentle eyes. “Your vows are as a lay monk, William. Abandoning them does not mean you are abandoning our Lord. If you choose to follow another path, another vocation, then I’ll make certain you are free to do so.”

  William drew a slow, steady breath. “I want that very much.”

  The archbishop accepted William’s tunic. “What about the treasure? It must be moved if it has been discovered. Does Sir John Fraser know that you’ve found his storehouse?”

  Deep regret washed over William. “Sir John is dead at the hands of Pierre de la Roche. The man used the Spear to send him to his eternal reward.”

  The archbishop genuflected. “My most sincere regrets. Sir John was a very good man.”

  William motioned to Siobhan with his head. “She is his only daughter.”

  The archbishop’s gaze moved beyond William to Siobhan. “The last time I saw her, she was a wee babe in arms.” He sighed heavily. “Is there anything I can do to assist you?”

  “Marry us?”

  The archbishop’s eyes went wide, then laughter filled the church.

  Siobhan twisted toward the altar, her expression uncertain.

  “Consider your request fulfilled, my son.” The holy man’s smile increased. “When do I get to meet your lovely bride?”

  William could feel heat rise to his face. “As soon as I ask her to be my wife.” He held out the Spear to the archbishop. “Meanwhile, take this into your care.”

  The archbishop accepted the Spear. “’Tis an honor I do not take lightly.”

  William released a heavy breath, suddenly relieved to have the responsibility of the Spear out of his hands. He had more important tasks to deal with. “Wait here. I shall be but a moment.”

  The archbishop nodded. “Anything for your happiness, my friend.”

  Siobhan nervously smoothed the gently used midnight blue velvet dress William had purchased for her earlier this morning. As he strode down the long church aisle after speaking with the archbishop alone, a radiant smile lit his face. Gone were the lines of strain. Rugged power marked each step as he drew near.

  Dressed in a wine-colored velvet tunic, dark trews and black boots, the sight of him brought warmth to the core of her being. There was an intensity and excitement in his expression that had never been there before. She felt herself melting as he stopped before her and took her hands in his.

  “’Tis done,” he said, his voice soft.

  “This is truly what you want, to be a Templar no more?”

  He nodded. “In my heart I’ll always be a Templar, Siobhan. I’ve been a warrior all my life. I cannot break away from what has formed me into the man I am today. But I no longer have formal ties to the Templar Order. And I feel at peace with that decision.”

  His hands moved up to cup her shoulders. “I want other things.”

  She swallowed to ease the tautness in her throat. “What do you want, William?”

  “You tempt me so,” he breathed as he brushed her hair away from her cheek, his fingers lingering on the curve of her neck. “I don’t let my guard down easily. I haven’t let anyone into my life in a long time. But somehow you slipped into my heart and soul. When we made love in the Templar treasure room, I knew you were the one—the one I would love forever.”

  The breath stilled in her chest as the words she’d longed to hear wrapped around her heart. She opened her mouth to respond, but he brought a finger to her lips, stalling her.

  “I asked you before, when I wasn’t free to do so. But today I stand before you an unencumbered man.” He paused. “You would make me the happiest man in the world if you would wed me, here in this church, today.”

  Emotion swelled inside her. “Yes,” she responded without hesitation.

  “You agree?”

  She nodded, no longer trusting her voice.

  He captured her lips in a kiss that stole her breath and left her longing for more. “I love you,” she responded when she was able, tracing her fingers over the sculpted muscle beneath his velvet tunic. His heart hammered beneath her touch. She was blissfully content to know a part of that heart belonged to her now.

  William slipped his arm around Siobhan’s waist. “You’re trembling,” he noted as he guided his bride up the long aisle toward the holy man who would wed them. “There is nothing to fear, ma chérie.” He smiled down at her. “After you’ve braved the wilds of Scotland, torture and battles with de la Roche, marriage to me cannot be so terrible.”

  “It is not fear,” Siobhan admitted. “I truly don’t know why I feel suddenly so at ease.”

  He paused. “Are you uncertain about this marriage? If you feel I am rushing things—”

  “I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” she said, her tone fierce.

  “Then what is it?” he asked, concern filling his sherry-colored eyes.

  She worried her lower lip. “I am saddened my father could not be here with me.”

  “He is here with us.” An understanding smile returned to William’s lips. “He’s in our hearts. He’s in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the stained glass. He’s in the silence that fills the church.”

  A mixture of warm sunl
ight and shadow created a mosaic on the marble aisle before her. The scent of flowers, incense and candles permeated her senses in a heady mix. And from high above, a bell tolled the hour.

  “You’re right. He is here with us.” Siobhan smiled into William’s eyes, suddenly filled with a sense of joy unlike any she had ever experienced.

  This brave, strong, independent man would soon be her husband. She knew from their experiences over the past days that life wouldn’t always be perfect, that they’d have their challenges. She’d learned that life and love were a series of peaks and valleys, euphoria and pain. But in the end, it was the constancy of love that mattered.

  “You’re the only man for me, Sir William Keith of Stonehyve. I shall be yours every day for the rest of my life.”

  “Treasure.” He leaned forward and brushed her temple with his lips. “You’re the only treasure I need.”

  Epilogue

  Stonehyve Castle, Scotland

  April 1332

  Siobhan found herself at the gates of the kirk yard of Stonehyve Castle. She couldn’t keep herself from visiting her father’s grave, not today. Her father had died one year ago this day.

  She threw open the gates, reveling in the pungent scent of the sea as it swept in with the rising of the tide. Over the past year she had come to love the smell of the ocean, just as she’d come to cherish her new life as mistress of the castle. William had also embraced his new life. Beneath his command, the castle and all its residents had flourished.

  The most welcome addition to the castle she held cradled in her arms. “We’re going to meet your grandfather,” Siobhan explained to the four-month-old child, who seemed more interested in the tartan cloth Siobhan had wrapped around her than in the scenery.

  Siobhan chuckled as she picked her way across the grave sites. At her father’s resting place, she stumbled. Where only a week ago there had been a simple wooden grave marker, now rested a life-size reclining figure carved in stone. It lay next to the monuments of William’s mother and father, which their staff had commissioned years earlier.

  Instead of the sorrow she expected to feel at the sight of the newly capped year-old grave, joy bubbled up. Siobhan bent down beside the image of her father’s face. She traced her fingers across the strong, noble jaw that the artist had captured from the days of his young adulthood, not at the time of his death. “Maggie, meet your grandfather,” Siobhan said to her daughter, her words thick with emotion.

  William was responsible for this precious gift.

  “Do you like it?” a familiar voice called from behind.

  Siobhan turned to face William. “What a lovely surprise.”

  He folded the two of them in his arms. He placed a kiss upon his daughter’s head before he turned to Siobhan. His kiss for her was slow and gentle, setting her heart and soul aflutter.

  He pulled back with a beaming smile, knowing the effect he had over her. “I wanted to do something special for you, something that would remind you of the man your father was, and give our dear little Margaret at least a small understanding of who her grandparents were.”

  Margaret cooed in response, reaching toward the effigies of his parents. Captured forever in stone, Sir Philip and Lady Eda Keith lay next to each other, their bodies close, eternally in love and at peace in each other’s arms.

  “I can think of no better way to leave this world than in the arms of the man you love.”

  “There are other statues I commissioned. Would you like to see them?”

  Siobhan glanced around the kirk yard. Nothing else had changed.

  “They’re not here.” William took the baby from Siobhan’s arms and led her out of the kirk yard, through the bailey and to the courtyard that overlooked the ocean at the back of the keep. Throughout the past year, William had spent much of his time directing the changes to the formalized gardens. Now she understood why.

  In the center of the courtyard rose an urn similar to the one they had seen in the Templar treasure chamber. Flames danced in the metalurn, lending life and motion to the groupings of life-sized statues that stood at each of the courtyard’s four corners.

  “I left the Brotherhood behind, but I didn’t leave my brothers. I placed them here so they could look out over the waters of the Atlantic and into forever.” William guided her to one corner.

  “Siobhan, this is Sir James Douglas, our leader. Beside him are Sir Walter Logan and Robert Logan of Restalrig.”

  “These are the men who fought with you in the Battle of Teba.”

  He nodded. “Over here we have Sir William Borthwick, Sir Kenneth Moir, Sir Alan Cathcart, and Mistress Brianna Sinclair.”

  “A woman?”

  “Aye, and a brave one at that.”

  “How did she end up traveling with a Templar army?”

  “That is a story in itself,” he said with a laugh as they continued to the far corner of the courtyard. “Allow me to introduce Sir William Sinclair and his brother, John Sinclair of Rosslyn.”

  “Do the statues resemble the men and women you fought with?” she asked, curious as to how their images had been captured.

  William nodded. “The death masks Simon and I made before their burials captured every detail. For those still living, I relied on past portraits.”

  Siobhan smiled up at the two Sinclair brothers. “We must invite all their families to come see this tribute you’ve given them.”

  William took her hand and walked with her to the final corner. He stopped before the two statues there. “Sir Simon Lockhart of Lee, and myself.”

  Siobhan remained silent as she stared at the lifelike images of Simon and her husband. Despite her attempt to keep her emotions in check, tears came to her eyes and slid silently down her cheeks.

  “Does this upset you?” William asked as he pulled her against the hard length of his body.

  “Nay, my love. I’m touched by their bravery.” Looking up at him, she lifted her hand to his face and stroked his cheek. There was so much to this complex man she’d married. “You loved them all, didn’t you?”

  “Aye.”

  “Of these eleven, who is still alive?”

  “Simon and Brother Kenneth you know, Sir William Borthwick and Brianna Sinclair. Alan Cathcart remains a mystery. His body was never found.”

  Siobhan closed her eyes. The statues were so poignant. William was everything to her, everything she’d ever dreamed of and more, yet if something was missing from his life, if he’d rather be with the Templars…

  He touched her chin and forced her to look up at him. “I know what you’re thinking, Siobhan. The answer is nay. I wouldn’t trade one moment of my life with you and Margaret to be a Templar again.”

  “Just as I wanted to give our daughter a reminder of who her grandparents were, I needed to immortalize the Brotherhood to help me honor the past, both yours and mine.”

  Staring into his eyes, she suddenly understood. For him, the statues meant it was time to move forward with life, to let go of the past. For in his eyes she saw love, and hope, but there was something else there as well. A part of himself that had been a Templar, a part of himself he would never let go. The adventurer.

  And that is when Siobhan knew the truth: the adventure of her life had only just begun.

  Afterword

  The Brotherhood of the Scottish Templars is a fictitious name for a group of men who truly existed in medieval Scottish history. The hero of To Tempt a Knight, Sir William Keith, was one of the knights selected by James “Black” Douglas at the time of King Robert the Bruce’s death to take the king’s embalmed heart to the Holy Land. Their mission was to place the king’s heart in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre.

  In the spring of 1330, the Bruce’s inner circle of knights, supported by twenty-six squires and a retinue of men, set off on a Crusade from Scotland for Jerusalem, fighting the infidels along the way.

  James Douglas wore the heart of the king in a specially designed cylindrical vessel about his neck, using it as a
talisman as he and his men made their way through enemy territory.

  On the morning of August 25, 1330, the Scottish knights joined King Alfonso of Castile in a battle that was intended to crush the Kingdom of Granada, which was held by the Moors at that time. A false battle cry sent the Scottish knights into battle before they had adequate reinforcements. They were outnumbered a hundred to one. And even with the heart of the king on their side, they were doomed to failure. The knights were crushed by the Moors, and their mission failed.

  Five of the ten knights died, along with hundreds of foot soldiers. Sir William Keith and Sir Simon Lockhart of Lee recovered the Bruce’s heart and returned with it and the bodies of the fallen knights to Scotland.

  There is no documentary evidence that shows that the knights who traveled with the Bruce’s heart on Crusade were Templar knights. However, enough evidence exists to suggest Sir William Sinclair and his brother, John Sinclair of Rosslyn, were associated with the Templars. The idea of this association is not too much of a stretch for the time period, especially since their journey took them into lands once protected by the Templars.

  It is recorded in French Masonic history that eighteen Templar ships left at midnight from La Rochelle, France, at midnight on October 11, 1307, reportedly heading to Scotland, the refuge place designated for Templar relics.

  In the year 1331, when this story takes place, the Templars worldwide had been disbanded for seventeen years—everywhere, that is, except in Scotland. In those years, Scotland was seen as a safe haven for Templars, because Robert the Bruce never disbanded the Templar Order within his lands.

  Another notable aspect of the Templars is their connection to the legendary treasure. Did it truly exist? What precious artifacts did it contain? No one knows for certain. In the pages of To Tempt a Knight, the Templar artifact the hero and heroine struggle to protect is the Longinus Spear, also known as the Spear of Destiny and the Holy Lance.

  According to tradition, at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, the Spear was in the possession of the Roman Centurion Gaius Cassius Longinus. It was Longinus who pierced Christ’s side with the Spear. Eventually the Spear fell out of Longinus’s care and into the hands of destiny.