by Laura Landon
“Come here, Kate, and let me see.”
“There’s nothing to see, Duncan.” Katherine stayed in the shadows and refused to go near him. “I have hurt myself a little. ‘Tis all.”
“Do na argue with me, Kate. I do na have the strength to fight you.”
“Show him, lass. He’ll see you sooner or later.”
“It’s nothing. See.” Katherine lifted the shawl away from her skin and quickly put it back. “The marks will be better in no time. Now, go back to sleep.”
Duncan turned to Angus and a silent message passed between them. Angus nodded, and took Katherine’s arm. He led her over to the bed, then pulled the shawl from around her neck.
She only had one free hand, not nearly enough fingers to cover the multitude of discolored marks on her skin or the swollen bruise on her face. She let her hand fall so he could see all of her.
She could not look at him. She didn’t want to see the look on his face; the look that would put out into the open the proof that he could never abide who she was. Huge, wet tears streamed down her face and she couldn’t stop them. She was exhausted. For four days she’d slept very little. Every muscle in her body ached like someone had beaten her. She no longer wanted to pretend to her husband or his clan that she could be the perfect wife for their laird.
“I did that?”
Katherine didn’t answer, so Angus answered for her. “Aye. You did.”
“Why?”
“It was the fever, milord.”
“I would have an answer from my wife, Angus.” Duncan’s gaze turned to her. “What reason did I give for touching you so?”
The thick wall that had been holding back her feelings crumbled, then broke — along with the tears she’d been holding inside her. She pointed to the bruises on her neck. “These are because I’m English. You cannot abide the fact that you married an English.”
Katherine pulled her shawl around her neck and walked to the door. “I’m tired. I would like to sleep now.”
Without another word, she left him.
…
Katherine placed another log in the hearth to build a bigger fire to keep the room warm, then turned.
It had been two weeks and the bruises on her neck were almost gone. Although they hadn’t spoken of that night again, what had happened remained between them like a festering chasm of discontent. Katherine felt more distanced from him now than ever. The hurt was unbearable.
“I think I will get up today.”
“I think you will dream about getting up today. Maybe tomorrow Angus will let you out of bed.”
“That’s what you said yesterday, Kate, and I only agreed out of consideration for your feelings. Today I do na feel so considerate.”
Katherine braced her hands against her hips. “You did not get up yesterday, Duncan, because you tried to stand on your own and failed. You think no one saw you, but I did.”
Duncan let his head fall back on the pillow and laughed. “You are too sly for me, wife. I can get nothing past you.”
“That is a fact you had best not forget.”
Katherine walked over to the bedside table and poured water into a goblet and handed it to him.
“Kate, sit with me a while. We must talk.”
Katherine shook her head in denial and pulled her hand from his grasp. She wanted so much to make him understand, but when she turned to face him, she realized that the gap separating them was wider than ever.
“Did Angus tell you Bolton was na there when we arrived?” he said.
“Yes.”
“Do you know what that means?”
She couldn’t force her voice to answer him. She looked to the floor and nodded.
“It will na be long before Bolton comes here with your king’s army, Kate.”
She closed her eyes to block out his words, but she knew they were true. She did not have much time. “When?”
“A few weeks. I do na know.” Duncan shifted in his bed until he had pushed himself upright. “I need the crown, lass. I need to have it before Bolton comes.” His voice softened with the next sentence. “I will na let you give it to him, Kate. I will die before I let Bolton have it.”
Katherine closed her eyes and turned her face away from him. “Do not fear, Duncan. Bolton will never get the crown from me.”
Katherine could hear the harshness in his voice. “Then why will you not give it to me?”
She gathered her resolve. “It doesn’t belong to you. It belongs only to England.”
“I will have it, Kate. My father died to protect it, and my mother and my sisters. I must do my part, just as every Scot.”
“Even if it means your death?”
“It meant my father’s death and I was na here to save him.”
Katherine stopped short, and for the first time saw what drove her husband to want the crown. “It’s not your fault your father is dead. Can’t you see? Had you been here you would more than likely be dead too.”
“I can na let his death go for naught, lass. Can you na understand?”
“I understand that if Scotland doesn’t give England her crown, many more people will die.“
“You would go against your husband to keep the crown? England is still that important to you?”
“No! Peace is that important to me. I would go against my husband to keep peace with England.”
For a long time, only silence permeated the chamber. Finally, Duncan spoke, his voice hard, unyielding. “Is the crown hidden at Kilgern Castle?”
Katherine turned away from him.
“In two weeks’ time, I will be well enough to travel. We will go to see your sister, and you will get the crown.”
Katherine spun around and glared at him. “No! I told you on the day we married I could not give you the crown. I took an oath and I cannot break it.”
“You will get the crown and bring it back here. I will give you na choice in this Kate. There is na time left.”
A cold chill raced up and down her spine. Several silent moments separated them. Finally his voice cut through the tension.
“You will get the crown, lass. I will at least have it where I can protect it.”
Katherine hugged her hands around her arms. What was left for her to do? “Will you promise you will not take it from me?” she whispered, the lump in her throat nearly choking her.
He shook his head. “I promise I will give you the chance to give it to me first.”
Katherine walked out of the room on legs that trembled beneath her. She had two weeks.
…
Katherine moved her basket closer to the stream and knelt beside the water. Malcolm had come with her, as were Duncan’s instructions. She was not allowed outside the walls without someone at her side. Right now, though, she needed to be alone. She needed time to sort through the desperation and confusion that surrounded her. Time to figure out what she had to do.
She dipped one of Duncan’s shirts in the water and scrubbed it with soap. She pretended that each stain represented one of her worries, and rubbed as if it were possible to wash away each problem with simple soap and water.
Each morning and every evening, she got on her knees in the chapel and prayed that God would show her a way. A way to keep the vow she’d given the priest, without losing the man she’d taken as her husband. This morning she had even prayed that God would stop her from giving more of her heart to him. But she knew it was already too late.
Katherine scrubbed the shirt in her hands harder. She didn’t know how she would survive when Duncan turned his back on her.
“If you do na scrub the laird’s shirt in a different spot, milady, your husband will walk around with a hole in his back.”
Katherine jerked her hands out of the water and looked up at Angus standing above her. She hadn’t heard him approach. “My mind is far away and not thinking about what my hands are doing.”
“I can see this.”
Katherine rinsed the shirt clean, and reached for the n
ext piece and soaped it. “I had planned to come to see you when I was finished. It has been a long time.”
“Aye. How is the laird feeling today?”
Katherine smiled. “Much better, Angus. He went downstairs again today. It will not be long and he’ll be out training with his men.” And well enough to travel to get the crown. “He walked to the practice yard yesterday. Finally, Malcolm made him come back. Didn’t you, Malcolm?” Katherine looked back at the warrior who leaned against the tree, deep in thought.
Malcolm jerked to attention as if he’d been a thousand miles away. “Aye, milady. He’s much better.”
Katherine scrubbed the last piece of clothing in the cool water. “Have you seen Brenna today, Malcolm?”
“Aye. I went to see her before we left. She is much the same. Morgana tries to make her leave her room, but she will na. She hides in the darkness like a fey lass.”
“Duncan goes each day to see her too. Perhaps he can help.”
“Perhaps,” Malcolm said, but his tone didn’t sound so sure. Katherine thought of the small figure huddled in the corner of her room and she doubted it too.
“Is there something you can do for her, Angus?”
“I will go see her, mistress, but I think there is naught anyone can do until the lass wants to come back to us.”
Katherine rinsed the last of her clothing and twisted it dry. “I’m almost finished here,” she said, hanging each article over a low branch or a bush to dry. “I overheard Margaret say the blackberries Duncan is especially fond of are ready to be picked. She said she makes a jam he has a fondness for.”
Angus gave a hearty laugh. “I remember last year at this time, Duncan bribed Meara and Elissa and Brenna with a handsome leather belt he had fashioned. He said he would give the belt to the sister who picked him the most berries.”
Katherine placed her basket beneath the bushes until she could return to get the clothes. “Who won the belt, Angus?”
“It was Brenna, milady. She returned with almost double the berries either of her sisters had picked, but if I remember right, she had some help.”
Angus smiled a broad beaming grin and reached for a leaf from the bush. “Our Brenna has always been a comely lass with a rosy glow to her cheeks and a twinkle in her eyes. With one of her bright smiles, half the laird’s warriors jumped to help her pick berries. Is that na right, Malcolm?”
“Aye, Angus. Our Brenna is a rare beauty.”
There was a soft hush to Malcolm’s voice and Katherine stared at the far away expression in Malcolm’s eyes. Brenna was the lass he loved. It was as plain as if it were written across his face. How much he hurt was etched there as well. He must be living an agonizing torture seeing how much she had changed.
“Would you show me where the berries are, Malcolm?” she said, leaving her clothes, and walking back toward the castle.
“Aye, milady. But they are way in the hills.” Malcolm pointed to the forest to their right. “You can na go there by yourself. I will take you tomorrow. We’ll get our laird all the berries he can eat.”
Angus looked up at the gray sky. “Be sure you dress warm, lass. The weather’s changing and there will be a blast of cold air to chill our bones by tomorrow.”
Katherine stopped and let the damp air hit her face. “I can feel it.”
“Aye. It will be colder, especially up high where you’ll find the berries.”
Katherine didn’t mind. It would give her a chance to leave the castle. Perhaps she could find a way to escape. It had been more than a week since Duncan had threatened they would go for the crown, and he was getting stronger by the day. She would soon run out of time.
They walked through the inner bailey, past the kitchen. “It was a good thing you did for our women, milady,” Malcolm said. “See, they are open again today.”
“It was not a new idea, Malcolm. It’s the way our kitchen was in England. It seemed to work there and I only borrowed the idea.”
Angus cleared his throat. “It will na be long before our women are convinced having windows was a new idea born in Scotland.”
Katherine hid her smile.
“I think it does na hurt to steal England’s ideas,” Malcolm said with a confident air. “They would do the same, would they not?”
A grin covered Katherine’s face. “Yes, Malcolm. They would do the same.”
Katherine walked through the front door and stood in the open doorway. She stepped back into the shadows, watching her husband talk to his men; watching as he took care of the clan’s important business. He was born to be the laird of clan Ferguson. He’d been taught well. And when the English came for their crown, he would give his life to keep it from them. As his father had given his life before him.
A wave of panic washed over her. She didn’t have much time left. She had to find the tunnel that would take her beyond the castle walls, then travel to Kilgern Castle to get the crown. Somehow she had to get the crown out of Scotland and take it back to England. Somehow she had to find the courage to leave Scotland and her Scot.
The last would be the hardest, because once she left, she could never come back to him.
He would never want her back.
…
Katherine lifted her face and watched the clouds race across the sky. Angus had been right. The air would have a biting chill to it soon. Perhaps they would even see snow.
She headed down the path toward the stream to get her laundry. Malcolm was close on her heels, but had slowed to talk to Gregor, while she went ahead to gather her clothing. It wouldn’t take her long. Then she could go back to search again for the secret passage that was hidden in one of the rooms in the keep.
With Duncan well enough to spend more time downstairs and out-of-doors, she could now make a thorough search of their room. The secret passageway in the MacIntyre keep had been easier to find. So far, though, she had not found the stone that, when pushed, would open a door leading beyond the wall. The Ferguson escape route was not nearly so easy to find as the MacIntyre’s.
Katherine walked toward the bushes where she’d hung her laundry, thinking of which room she would search next. Her footsteps slowed. Something wasn’t right.
Katherine stared at the branches where she knew her clothes should be. There were no shirts or gowns hanging there. There were only strips of tattered, dirty rags ground into the mud at the water’s edge.
Katherine picked the first torn piece of cloth out of the muck and held it in her trembling hands. It was material from one of her gowns. She picked up the next and examined it. More material from that same gown.
She picked up all the pieces she could find and rinsed them in the water to make sure, but every piece of shredded clothing was from her gown. None had come from Duncan’s clothing.
Whoever had done this had slashed her clothing with a knife, and had taken Duncan’s shirts with them. The realization of what that meant sent a violent shiver down her spine.
Katherine threw her shredded clothing into the basket, and threw her shawl over the top to cover it. There was no need for anyone to know. Duncan would only assign more Fergusons to guard her. She would never have a moment alone to search for the hidden passageway.
“Have you gathered your laundry?” Malcolm asked, walking up behind her.
“Yes. I’m ready to go back.”
“Here,” Malcolm said, reaching for the basket.
“No.” Katherine pulled it away. “Thank you, but I can carry it.”
There was a frown on Malcolm’s face. “Is something wrong, mistress?”
“No. Nothing is wrong.”
Katherine breathed a deep sigh and turned the conversation to the berries they would pick tomorrow.
When she said her prayers tonight, she would make certain to pray that she stayed alive long enough to eat some of the jam they made.
Chapter 13
Katherine finished her petitions, then made the sign of the cross and rose from her knees before the altar. She rest
ed her hand against the railing and looked up. The statue of Jesus with his outstretched hands usually comforted her, made her feel safer. Tonight, nothing made her feel safe. Nothing made her feel wanted.
She remembered the shredded clothing she’d found by the stream this afternoon. The warning was abundantly clear. The hatred Duncan’s people felt for her was growing.
Candles flickered on the altar, lighting the room in muted dusky shades. She ignored the painful tightening in her breast and fell back to her knees. Dear God, she prayed, fervently clutching her hands together in front of her, don’t let them hate me so. Don’t let him want me only for the crown.
She had been Duncan’s wife for more than two months, and his people accepted her no more today than they had when Duncan had first brought her here. The glares she received when she came back from the stream today were no softer or more welcoming than they’d been that first day she’d ridden in at Duncan’s side. It was as if Duncan’s clan all knew she would not truly be a part of their laird’s life for long.
Katherine said a final amen, then began again her search for the secret passageway. She walked to the wall behind the altar and ran her hands along the stones. Nothing. Not a lose stone, or a lever to push, or a handle to pull. Nothing that would show her how to get beyond the castle walls.
Satisfied that there was nothing behind the altar, Katherine went to the side wall. She’d searched the chapel before, but maybe, just maybe she’d overlooked something. Maybe tonight she’d find what she was searching for. Her heart beat faster in her breast. She didn’t have much time left. Only days before Duncan would force her to go to Kilgern to get the crown. Maybe less before whoever wanted to harm her would accomplish their goal.
Katherine fell to her knees and ran her hand along the stones at the base of the wall. Nothing. She sat back on her heels and looked up. Nothing but a smooth, stone wall. Slowly, wearily, she got to her feet and turned around. Her heart slammed against her ribs, then jumped to her throat. Duncan stood by the door, watching her.