by Laura Landon
“Bolton thought perhaps you had been slain in the skirmish.”
Duncan remembered the ambush and fought his rising temper. “I’m sure that was his fondest desire. I can imagine his disappointment.”
“He says you have the Bishop’s Crown and plan to keep it from England.”
“Did he tell you he took my sister, Brenna, as hostage for the crown?”
“Yes. He also said you took my daughter Katherine as hostage in spite.”
Duncan leveled his gaze on Kate’s father and started to form the words that would counter his accusation, but the patter of footsteps crossing the clean rushes on the floor of the great hall stopped him.
“Father!”
The Earl of Wentworth raised his gaze and smiled at the blond nymph running toward him. “Elizabeth.” He held open his arms and pulled his daughter into his waiting embrace.
“I’ve missed you so, Father,” Elizabeth said, giving her father another hug.
“And I you. I hear you’ve made me a grandfather. Is my grandson well?”
“Oh, yes. And Edith says you will be pleased to know he has your temperament. Already he can roar as loudly as you, and is equally as determined in his demands. I am reserving judgment though, because my husband shows so many of these same traits, it’s hard to tell.”
Ian came to stand beside his wife. “I am na sure, but I think we have been insulted, milord.”
“I am sure we have, but I…”
The Earl of Wentworth stopped and turned his gaze toward the wide entrance of the great hall. Duncan had seen her when she’d first walked in, but had only watched as she stood with her hands fisted at her side and her pale face grim and expressionless.
He waited for her to run across the room to her father as Elizabeth had done, but she did not. She stood on the top step and waited to be called forward.
…
“Come here, Katherine.”
Katherine lifted her chin and walked across the chamber toward her father. Her knees trembled beneath her until she feared she would not make it to the other end of the long room.
Her gaze focused on the stern, evaluative look on her father’s face, then moved to Duncan’s vague, hooded expression. The two were so alike. So perfect and noble and honorable. So strong and unyielding and domineering. Why could she never do enough to be accepted by either?
Her whole life she’d searched but couldn’t find the key that would make her father love her. What she would do today would gain approval from her father, but would close her husband’s heart to her forever.
“Father.”
The earl opened his arms and Kate stepped into his embrace. He held her for a moment, then released her and she stepped away.
“Are you well, Katherine?”
“Yes, Father. I’m fine.”
“Have you been mistreated?”
“No. I have not been mistreated.”
Duncan came to stand at Kate’s side and motioned to his warriors. They all filed out until only Ian and Elizabeth were there with them.
“I would like to speak to the Ferguson alone,” Katherine’s father said, looking at Ian. Expecting compliance.
“I’ll take Elizabeth outside for a breath of air,” Ian said, clasping his hand around his wife’s elbow. “I’ll be close if I’m needed.”
Duncan nodded. “We’ll be alright.”
No one spoke until Ian and Elizabeth were gone, then Katherine’s father lifted his shoulders and breathed a deep breath. “You committed a grave error when you brought my daughter here, Lord Ferguson.”
Katherine did not look at Duncan’s face. She could already imagine the raised eyebrows and slight cock of his head to the right.
“I do na consider it an error.”
“By edict of our king, my daughter is betrothed to Bolton, the Earl of Rivershorn. You have taken her against her will and have no right to hold her.”
“Your daughter did na come here against her will and I have every right to hold her.”
“Are you saying you will not let her leave?”
“Nay, milord. Your daughter is where she belongs. I’ve taken her as my wife and she will stay with me.”
Fire blazed from the earl’s eyes and he focused his formidable gaze, first on her then on Duncan. “The church will never recognize your marriage, Ferguson. Even in Scotland, a marriage is not recognized where the bride is forced to say her vows.”
“Your daughter was na forced to repeat her vows, milord. She said them freely. As did I.”
Her father turned his glare on her. Katherine was not sure if Duncan recognized the disappointment on his face but it was impossible for her to miss. Cold, spiny fingers clenched a fist deep in her stomach and twisted. She felt the warmth drain from her face and prayed she would not embarrass herself and fall to the floor.
“You were betrothed to William Bolton, Katherine. You were issued an edict by your king to marry the Earl of Rivershorn. If the Scot forced you to marry him, it doesn’t matter if a priest said the words. The marriage is not binding.”
“I was not forced, Father. The Scot asked for my hand before the priest, and I gave it.” Katherine could not look at the disbelief on her father’s face. She turned her head, but the slight movement tilted the room and she felt her body sway. Duncan’s arm reached out for her and pulled her close to him.
“The marriage is binding, milord,” Duncan said, the tone of his voice leaving no room for her father to argue. “Edict or na, I would never have allowed her to marry the English bastard.”
“You would not have allowed? How dare you! Katherine’s marriage was to strengthen the ties between England and Scotland. Your King Robert issued the edict for a marriage between Elizabeth and the MacIntyre to bring peace on Scotland’s side. Katherine’s marriage would have established peace on England’s side.”
“Your Katherine would na have lived long enough to establish peace anywhere. Bolton would have killed her. He almost did.”
For the first time, Katherine saw her father’s composure waver.
“That is a lie, Ferguson.”
Katherine sensed the smoldering furor that burned with every breath Duncan took. Her father would never have questioned her husband if he’d known him. He wouldn’t have accused him of lying. Duncan had not gone back on his vow to leave the crown with her and it was costing him dearly.
“Turn around, Kate.” Duncan’s voice was soft and low, his words a hissing sound through clenched teeth.
Kate opened her eyes wide and shook her head. “No, Duncan. You don’t have to show him.”
“He needs to see. He needs to see what kind of man your king has given an army. He needs to see what kind of man he would have given his daughter to. Come here.”
Kate stood before Duncan and looked up into his face. “It does not matter now.”
Duncan ignored her. He removed the Ferguson plaid from over her shoulder, then pulled her toward him. Kate placed her cheek against his chest. She wrapped her arms around his waist and begged him again not to do this. Her plea came out as a poor whisper.
He lifted the long knife from its sheath and cut the material of her gown at the back of her neck and ripped it to her waist. Kate pushed her face hard against Duncan’s chest when he held the material open.
The sharp intake of her father’s breath hissed in the chamber. Duncan kept her back exposed for what seemed an eternity, then wrapped the plaid back around her shoulders to cover her. Thank heaven he held her close for a moment before he released her or her weakened knees would have taken her to the floor.
“Bolton did that?” Kate’s father asked. The harsh tone to his voice accented his anger.
“Aye.”
“Why? Why would he flog her?”
“He wanted the crown and thought to force her to tell him where she’d hidden it.”
“But she was his betrothed.”
“He did na know it was Kate he was whipping, although I do na think it would have stopped h
im. He thought it was your other daughter, Elizabeth. He was desperate to have the crown. He still is.”
Katherine stepped back from Duncan’s warmth and pulled the plaid around her shoulders. Her gaze concentrated on the stone floor beneath her feet. She could not look at her father or at Duncan.
“Do you have the crown, Katherine?”
The flat line of her father’s voice sent a shiver down her spine. She touched her hand to her stomach to keep down the little food she’d eaten. “Yes.”
“The Ferguson has not taken it away from you? He doesn’t want it?”
She closed her eyes. The lump in her throat refused to move. The pain in her chest refused to ease. “Yes. He wants it.”
“Then why do you still have it?”
Katherine braved a look at Duncan’s face. His unblinking gaze stared without warmth at an insignificant spot just above her head. His lips tightened to a straight line and a strained muscle in his jaw knotted. “My husband promised he would not take the crown from me. He would never break his word.”
Katherine’s father paced before the hearth with his hands behind his back then came to a halt and turned to Duncan. A concentrated frown covered his forehead. “How did you think you would get the crown from my daughter, Lord Ferguson, if not by force?”
Duncan didn’t answer and her father repeated his question, this time a little more pointedly. “Did you think if she loved you she would give you the crown?” He waited. “Did you think Katherine so weak she would betray England for love?”
“I was mistaken.”
The pain in her chest seemed more than she could bear. Her loss more devastating than she could manage. He didn’t think she loved him. All these months, and he didn’t know how she felt about him.
Katherine’s father paced a few steps away from his spot near the hearth, then halted and faced them. “You were mistaken because you were not able to diminish your wife’s loyalty to England? Or, you were mistaken because you couldn’t force my daughter to love you? Which one, Lord Ferguson?”
“That is a question only your daughter can answer.”
Katherine clutched her hand to her throat to ease the dryness that threatened to choke her. “You know the reason I can not give you the crown, Duncan. You know.”
“What is it, Katherine?” her father interrupted. “Do you not love your Scot?”
Katherine choked back a sob. “Yes, I love my Scot. But I gave my word, Father. I swore before God I would give the crown to no one but you. I took a sacred vow.”
“To whom did you swear this, Katherine?”
“To the Ferguson priest the night he brought me the crown.”
“And you can live with my daughter’s decision, Lord Ferguson? You can take Katherine as your wife for the rest of your life, knowing her actions not only betray the Ferguson name, but all of Scotland? You can still love my daughter even after—”
“She’s my wife. I have sworn to care for her. It’s a debt I owe. I am honor bound to fulfill it.”
“But can you love her?” The volume of his voice increased. The harshness in his tone became more pronounced.
“I can na demand that she break her vow. My sin would be as great as hers.”
“But will you love her?” Katherine’s father shouted.
“She will have my name,” Duncan roared to the heavens. “I have given her that.”
Katherine reached for the edge of the trestle table to steady herself and leaned against it. The blood thundered in her head and a hurt more devastating than she could imagine stabbed her in the heart.
“Katherine, get the crown.”
The harshness in her father’s voice startled her. She’d heard a similar tone often, but never had it been so forceful. Never had it been so unyielding.
“Now!”
Katherine ran from the room, her legs so weak they barely supported her. Her hands shook so fiercely she could hardly keep a grasp on the crown as she carried it back down the open staircase. She made her way across the rushes on the stone floor and shuddered.
She refused to think on Duncan’s words. She closed her mind to what they meant. He’d given her his name but would give her no more. His love he would deny her forever. It was a cold, empty existence that lay before her.
Duncan stood in her way. Before she could give the crown to her father she had to pass him. She lowered her gaze, fighting the urge to look into his eyes and ask his forgiveness. She took her first step. His pull on her was too great and before she reached her father, she looked up. The hurt and the pain she saw was too great.
“What was the vow you gave the priest, Katherine?”
She swallowed twice before she could answer. “I swore I would give the crown to no one but my father, the Earl of Wentworth.”
“Then give me the crown.”
Katherine took a step nearer her father, then stopped. God help her. How could she do this to Duncan?
“Give me the crown, Katherine. You took a vow.”
Katherine tried to swallow the torment that wanted to cry out from the depths of her being, but only a tiny, pitiful moan echoed in the silence. Huge tears of agony streamed down her cheeks, dropping to the floor, one after the other. She could not stop them. Her loss was so great she did not care.
“Give me the crown.”
Katherine looked into her father’s eyes and saw the willful determination she’d recognized from little on. She took another step toward her father and held out her trembling hands.
She gave him the crown.
“You have now honored the vow you gave the priest. You have done what God and man demanded you do. Your soul is not in peril.”
The void she felt when her father lifted the crown from her arms consumed her entire body, causing the most agonizing torture to the hollow spot where her heart should be. She had done the one thing her Scot could never accept. She had saved her soul and lost her heart.
“Now, come stand by me and face your Scot.”
Katherine shook her head. She did not want to look into Duncan’s face and see his anger. She knew what she had done. She could not bear to see his hurt and disappointment.
“Face your Scot.”
Katherine turned around but could not lift her gaze to face the humiliation in Duncan’s eyes. Violent waves of fear crashed inside her head, shaking her world, drowning her in weary exhaustion.
“The choice is now yours, Duncan Ferguson. If you want the Bishop’s Crown, it’s yours for the taking.” Her father held out the crown in his right hand and grasped Katherine’s arm with his left. “You can choose either the crown or my daughter. One will return with me to England. The other will stay here with you.
“The choice is yours. I will give you one, but not both.”
…
Duncan stared at the Englishman in disbelief, then looked at Kate. The horrified expression on her face wrenched at his heart. The shock and hopelessness plain for all to see.
“You can na expect me to make such a choice. Kate is already mine. Now that she has given over the crown, there’s nothing to stop me from taking it from you.”
“Yes, there is. Your Scottish pride will not let you steal it from me. I came to you in good faith, alone and unarmed. To take it from me now would be a cowardly act. Your conscience will not allow it.”
Duncan steeled himself to control the violent rage that wanted to erupt within him. His chest heaved with deep, burning gasps of air, and still he didn’t have enough air to breathe. “My father gave his life to protect the crown for Scotland. You can na expect me to choose one over the other.”
“Yes, I can. I will not give over both the crown and my daughter and go back to England with empty hands. You can choose Katherine and lose the crown, or you can keep the crown and lose my daughter.”
Duncan looked into Kate’s face and saw the total dejection she did not try to hide. The haunted emptiness in her eyes appeared even more devastating when surrounded by the pale shallowness of her sk
in.
“Choose, my lord. I find it equally as unforgivable to give my daughter to an Englishman who would beat her, as I do to give my daughter to a Scot who will not love her.”
Every breath of air left his body. Hot pokers ripped into his chest and made a lethal stab through his heart. He reached out his hands. He wanted to hold the crown that had cost his mother and father and sisters their lives. He wanted to see what it felt like to have what he had dreamed his Kate would give to him.
He closed his eyes and let his head drop back onto his shoulders. He couldn’t move. He had lost. Everything he had fought for since he’d come back to find the crown gone and his family slain was within his grasp, yet further away than ever.
He could not keep the crown and lose Kate.
He placed the crown back in Kate’s father’s hands and turned around to hold Kate next to him. To hold her in his arms and keep her close, without a crown to separate them.
Kate was gone.
“By the Saints! No!”
Duncan looked toward the doorway. Kate was just running to the steps that would take her away from him.
“Kate. Stop.”
She did not slow down but continued through the wide doorway and up the winding stairway. Her footsteps padded down the long hall and a door upstairs slammed shut with an irrevocable finality. All was deathly silent. Duncan knew Kate had fled because she doubted his love and didn’t want to face him after he’d chosen the crown.
Duncan turned to face Kate’s father. “You will have your crown, milord. You above all know how priceless your daughter is. A thousand crowns from England could not even begin to equal her worth.”
The earl raised his shoulders and filled his chest. “I’m glad you realize Katherine’s value. She has always been more than special.”
“That’s strange, coming from you. She doesn’t think you love her. She thinks you love only Elizabeth.”
“She’s wrong. I love both my daughters equally but in different ways. Elizabeth was always so much like her mother I could refuse her nothing. Katherine was so much like me I could grant her nothing.” The earl lowered his hand and placed the crown on the table near him.