Border Brides

by Kathryn Le Veque

  Once inside the cool, dark keep, Stephen opened the first door they came to and ushered Cade inside. It was dark but for a small fire in the hearth. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Cade realized there was a young woman in the room, gazing back at him with eyes as wide as the heavens. One look at Cade and she suddenly burst into tears. While Cade was afraid he had done something to warrant such a thing, the massive knight closed the door to the solar and went to kneel beside the weeping woman.

  Cade watched curiously, with some trepidation, as Stephen put his enormous arm around the woman’s shoulders and kissed her on the temple. Then the knight looked at him.

  “As I said, my name is Stephen,” he said quietly. “I am Baron Lamberton, Guardian Protector of Berwick. This is my wife, the Lady Joselyn.”

  Cade was not sure how to react, so he simply bowed because he didn’t know what else to do. But his gesture caused the lady to weep harder and he watched, wide-eyed, as Stephen comforted her.

  “Cade,” Stephen began as gently as he could. “What do you remember about your childhood?”

  Cade cocked his head. “Childhood, my lord?”

  “When you were very small. What is your earliest memory?”

  Cade blinked his big blue eyes thoughtfully. “I… I remember being with the nuns,” he said, having no idea why the knight was asking such questions. “I remember being in the gardens and eating carrots out of the ground. Is that what you mean?”

  Stephen smiled faintly. “Aye,” he replied. “And your parents? Do you know anything about them?”

  Cade shook his head, his deep auburn hair glistening in the flame. “Nay, my lord. I never knew my parents. I was told they died. That is why I went to live with the nuns. Why do you ask?”

  By this time, Joselyn had stopped crying and she was gazing back at the boy with warmth and gentleness. He was very well spoken. Stephen glanced at her before continuing the conversation, noting the expression on her face. She was in love with the boy already. He continued carefully.

  “I ask because the nuns were mistaken, Cade,” he said softly. “Your parents are not dead.”

  Cade’s expression washed with disbelief and then confusion. “They are not dead?”

  Stephen shook his head. “Nay,” he replied. “Does this displease you?”

  The boy had to think about it. He scratched his head, his brow wrinkling up into a frown. “I…I do not know,” he said honestly. “You say they are not dead?”

  “Nay.”

  “But how do you know?”

  “Because Lady Joselyn is your mother.”

  Cade’s focus was riveted to Joselyn, who struggled not to burst into tears again. She smiled timidly for lack of a better reaction as the boy stared at her, she thought, with some horror. After an eternity of silence and uncertain staring, Cade finally lowered his gaze and seemed to shrink away.

  “I do not have a mother, my lord,” he turned for the door, unable to look at them, terrified by these confusing strangers. “Can I please go home? I want to go back to Ettrick.”

  Joselyn looked at Stephen with horror but Stephen was fixed on the frightened, disoriented young man. He moved away from Joselyn and went to stand next to Cade, who was by now struggling not to cry. The boy’s head was lowered, his hair hanging over his eyes. Stephen cleared his throat softly.

  “I realize this is a surprise, Cade,” he said softly. “You have been alone your entire life and suddenly a stranger says she is your mother. But you must not judge so harshly. It is not that your mother wished to be separated from you. What happened was out of her control. She loves you now and has always loved you.”

  Big, fat tears rolled down Cade’s cheeks and splattered onto the dusty floor. Stephen knelt down beside the boy, feeling genuine sorrow for him.

  “I am sorry that you are upset by this,” he said with concern. “It was not our intention to upset you but I am not sure there was any simple way to tell you this news.”

  The boy just stood there as big tears rolled off his face. He was struggling so hard to be brave, wiping furiously at his cheeks as if angry at the tears for falling. He clutched his satchel to his chest, holding silent for quite some time as the news sank deep.

  “I want to go home,” he whispered tightly.

  “I would like for you to stay and hear me out. Will you do this?”

  Cade shook his head, struggling not to sob. “I do not want to hear anymore. Please let me go.”

  Stephen sighed faintly, not daring to look at his wife. He was afraid to see the anguish in her eyes. “Please, Cade,” he said gently. “Please let me finish. This is important.”

  Cade just stood there, holding his satchel against him as if it were a shield to protect him. He was disoriented and frightened. But there was also a small part of him that was very, very curious and, more than that, desperately hurt. He didn’t even know why, but he was hurt.

  “W-why?” he finally whispered.

  “What do you mean?” Stephen asked softly.

  Cade continued to silently weep, silently wipe at his wet eyes. “If she is my mother, why did I go live with the nuns?”

  Stephen looked at Joselyn then; surprisingly, she was composed. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, looking imploringly at Stephen in response to Cade’s question. Stephen sighed faintly as he turned back to the boy.

  “Because your father is dead and your mother was too young and too ill to tend you.” It was a sweet and noble lie. “She never stopped loving you, Cade. But she knew that the nuns could take much better care of you than she could. She loved you so much that she had to make a very hard decision that was best for you.”

  Cade tried not to sob, fighting so hard to be strong. Watching the young man struggle just about broke Stephen’s heart. He was not beyond such compassion. Cade kept wiping at his damp face, trying hard to compose himself as he finally turned and looked at Joselyn. She returned his gaze with a surprising show of strength and composure.

  “You should have kept me,” the boy suddenly hissed, though it was without force. “I am strong. I could have worked when I was old enough. You did not have to send me away where no one would love me.”

  Stephen watched his wife’s reaction very carefully, hoping she would not crack, but the most she did was nod as if to agree.

  “I was very ill when you were born,” she told the child. “I was also only twelve years old, just a year older than you are. I was very young, Cade. I did what I thought was best so that you would always have food in your mouth and a roof over your head. Please understand… understand that I loved you so much that I would do anything to ensure you had a comfortable life. To have kept you would have been selfish because there was no way I could have provided for you on my own. I loved you so much that I had to give you to someone who could take care of you.”

  It was not exactly the truth but Joselyn was following Stephen’s lead. She was not sure Cade would understand how he really ended up at the abbey. Perhaps it was best to spare him some things. By this time, Cade’s tears were fading as he stared at the woman who looked a good deal like him. The pale blue eyes studied her carefully as he struggled to accept what he was being told.

  “You were only twelve years old when I was born?” he asked, almost suspiciously.

  Joselyn nodded. “Aye.”

  “I will be twelve years old in two months.”

  Joselyn couldn’t hold back the smile. “I know, on the fifth day of the month.”

  Cade’s eyes widened briefly. “You know my day of birth.”

  She laughed softly. “Of course I do.”

  Oddly, that small gesture seemed to convince him. This whirlwind of a day that had brought stunning news still had his head spinning, but he wanted to believe. He truly did. His tears vanished as his gaze lingered on Joselyn a moment longer before turning to Stephen. By now, the knight had risen from his crouched position and Cade had to crane his neck back to look the man in the face. He was positively enormous.

/>   “You told me that my parents were not dead,” he said,” yet you also told me that my father died. I do not understand.”

  Stephen could see that Cade was an intelligent, thoughtful boy. He liked him already. “It was the truth,” he told him. “Your real father is dead, but since I am the lady’s husband, I am now your father. Both of your parents are living and would like it very much if you would consider living with them for a time. We would like to be your family, Cade, if you will allow. I know it is a lot to ask after all these years, but perhaps you will consider it.”

  Cade scratched his head. He had a lot to absorb in his eleven year old brain but, the more he thought on it, the less distress he felt. In fact, he was feeling somewhat pleased and overwhelmed at the moment. He could hardly believe any of it but there was something deep inside of him, afraid yet excited, resistant yet not. He had always wondered what it would be like to have a mother and father. He was shocked that he was actually going to find out.

  “You are a baron, my lord?” he asked.

  Stephen nodded. “I am,” he replied. “At such time as you return to Ettrick Castle to foster, it will be as the son of Baron Lamberton. Does this displease you?”

  Cade shook his head. “Nay, my lord.”

  “Will you stay with your mother for a time and come to know her before you return?”

  Cade turned to look at Joselyn again, who was smiling faintly at him. He stared at her, nodding after a moment, before turning back to Stephen.

  “Who was the knight that retrieved me from Ettrick?” he wanted to know.

  Stephen lifted an eyebrow, putting a massive hand on the lad’s shoulder. “That,” he said, “was the Earl of Carlisle and uncle to King Edward.”

  Cade’s mouth popped open. As a boy, he was understandably impressed by men with titles and weapons. “You are his vassal?”

  “And his friend.”

  Cade’s young face suddenly lit up. “You are so rich and powerful, my lord?”

  Stephen laughed softly, turning the boy in Joselyn’s direction. “No more than anyone else, lad,” he said. “I have duties to attend to. Will you watch over your mother while I am gone? It would be a good time to come to know her.”

  Cade nodded, setting his satchel to the ground and hunting for a place to sit. Joselyn watched the boy, memorizing every line of his face and every lock of his hair. She was still dazed by his appearance, as if she was living a dream, but it was a dream well worth living. She wanted desperately to know her son and watching him interact with Stephen, and the way Stephen had handled the boy, had touched her deeply.

  “Are you hungry, Cade?” she asked. “There is much food in the great hall.”

  Cade nodded. “Aye, my lady. I could eat.”

  She stood up. “Come along, then. I will also take you to the kitchens were my fawn is. Would you like to see him?”

  “You have a fawn?”

  “I do.”

  “But how did you catch him?”

  Stephen stood out of the way as she opened the door, leading the young man from the room. “His mother was killed so I took him,” she said, passing by her husband as she spoke to her son. “Do you like sweet cakes?”

  The boy nodded eagerly. “I do, my lady.”

  “If my husband has left any untouched, I shall be happy to feed them to you.”

  Stephen grinned, watching the two of them walk from the keep, wondering how long it was going to be before Cade grew a round belly with all of the sweet cakes Joselyn would undoubtedly feed him. Still, he was relieved and pleased to see that they were at least getting along after their uncertain beginning. He could not have hoped for better.

  As he walked out of the keep behind them, he didn’t miss when Joselyn turned around and blew him a kiss. He winked in response. He stood there a moment, watching them walk towards the hall, touched when Joselyn slipped her hand into the crook of Cade’s arm and the boy didn’t back away. He looked a little surprised, but didn’t pull away. When they disappeared into the warmly lit great hall, Stephen gazed up into the starry night, silently thanking God for the appearance of Cade Alexander Pembury.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Kenneth was a man with a plan.

  He had been in the hall with Tate when Lady Pembury had returned with a young man who was about her size and looked a great deal like her. Kenneth and Tate had vacated the table when the boy arrived so that Joselyn could have some private time with him. But they left for another reason as well. They wanted to continue their conversation in private.

  The night was mild, a blanket of stars blazing across the dark sky. Kenneth and Tate crossed the bailey towards the gatehouse, noting the enormous form of Stephen on the parapet next to the gatehouse. He was in conference with several soldiers. Tate’s dark eyes lingered on Stephen, silhouetted against the night sky.

  “Are you sure that you do not want to tell him?” he asked.

  Kenneth shook his head. “He is too emotionally involved in his personal life right now,” he replied. “He is not thinking clearly.”

  Tate grunted in disagreement. “His decisions have been flawless since assuming this post, Ken.”

  Kenneth came to a halt, crossing his massive arms and casting a distracted eye out over the bailey. It was clear that he was somewhat edgy, with much on his mind. “I am suggesting we release MacKenzie so the man can lead us back to the rebels,” he said in a low voice. “The man is useless in the vault. Something has to be done because as it is, Berwick is a target waiting for an attack. It is my sense that the rebels are building but Stephen does not seem to think this is so.”

  Tate watched Kenneth’s body language. He was tense, highly unusual for the man who was consummately cool even in the heat of battle.

  “He trusts you,” Tate replied evenly. “He has already told me that he is sending Joselyn back to Forestburn with me come the morrow. I would say that is a strong indication that he is listening to you. So why not tell him what you wish to do with his prisoner?”

  Kenneth looked at him, then. He fell silent a moment as he contemplated his answer, a cautious answer that could be construed as disloyal. He wanted to be very careful in his words.

  “Stephen’s wife is Scots,” he said carefully. “Until two weeks ago, she was the daughter of the enemy. Then she became Stephen’s forced bride.”

  Tate’s brow furrowed. “True,” he replied. “But they are deeply in love with each other, Ken. What are you driving at?”

  Kenneth lifted his big shoulders. “I am saying that one does not change lifelong loyalties in a matter of days,” he replied quietly. “But I cannot tell Stephen that. He loves and undoubtedly trusts the woman. But I do not know her and what’s more, I do not by nature trust her. She is Scots. It is an unfortunate fact that what Stephen knows, his wife probably knows. If Stephen knows that we are releasing Kynan, then his wife will know it.”

  Tate could understand his concern but he did not agree. “Are you saying that she is somehow feeding information to the rebels?”

  “It is a distinct possibility.”

  Tate shook his head. “I have come to know the woman as well, Ken. She is not a traitor. When she married Stephen, she became loyal to her husband.”

  Kenneth’s ice-blue eyes glimmered weakly in the moonlight as he regarded his liege and friend. “I understand she attempted to escape more than a week ago.”

  Tate saw where he was leading and he sighed faintly, conceding the point. “She did make an attempt.”

  “What did she tell Stephen of her reasons for attempting to escape?”

  Tate licked his lips as he turned away, unable to look Kenneth in the eye. “She told him that she was seeking the rebels so that she could discover their plan and tell Stephen.”

  Kenneth lifted an eyebrow. “And he believed her?”

  Tate nodded slowly, looking at his boots. “He did.”

  “Do you know her well enough to know that she was telling the truth?”

  Tate just lo
oked at him. After a moment, he simply shook his head and looked back at his feet. He couldn’t answer. Kenneth sighed heavily.

  “You know that Stephen is closer than a brother to me,” he lowered his voice. “I would lay down my life for the man. But as he is deeply in love with his new wife who happens to be the daughter of the man who led Berwick’s defenses against Edward, I fear that he is not thinking clearly. As strong as Stephen is, as powerful a warrior, it appears that there is one weak link in the defense of Berwick and it happens to be Stephen of Pembury.”

  “Because of his unabashed love for his wife.”

  “It blinds him to the fact that she is the enemy. She could be closer to the rebels than Kynan is for all we know. The night she escaped Berwick, who is to say that she was not going to tell the Scots all she knew from the mouth of Pembury himself?”

  Tate knew he made complete, utter sense but it was difficult for him to fully agree with him. Joselyn Seton did not seem the treacherous type. But, then again, sometimes devils were disguised as angels. He didn’t know what to think.

  “You told Stephen that he must remove his wife because you believed there was an imminent attack,” he finally said. “Is this true? Or are you simply trying to remove Joselyn out of Berwick to separate her from the rebellion?”

  “Both,” Kenneth said honestly. “And I am also hoping that if she is removed, Stephen will stop seeing the situation through the eyes of a besotted lover.”

  They didn’t say anything to each other for quite some time, each man lost to his thoughts. The night above was still and dark as night birds sang in the distance and sentries went about their rounds on the parapets above. Finally, Tate spoke.

  “You will tell Stephen of your reasons for wanting to release MacKenzie but make no mention of your suspicions of Joselyn,” he said in a tone that suggested it was a command. “I suspect if you do, it will ruin your friendship with the man.”