Forbidden Vow

by Diana Cosby

  The scent of water and moss filled the air as Aiden blinked in confusion at Gwendolyn standing before him a pace away. Disgusted with himself for doing such a poor job of explaining, he shook his head. “I am not wanting to become a priest.”

  She frowned. “But you said a life to serve Him had been lost.”

  God’s sword, how had his explanation become so tangled? She deserved the truth of his past. At least, what he could share. “I will tell you, but first you must swear to tell nay one.”

  Worry flickered in her gaze. “What have you done?”

  “Swear it.”

  She hesitated. “I swear I will say naught.”

  “I am a Knight Templar. Or was.”

  Her lips parted on a soft gasp. “But a Knight Templar canna marry, or…” Gwendolyn’s face paled. “’Tis because of the arrests in France last fall, is it not?”

  Heartache balled in Aiden’s chest as he faced the water sliding beneath the fading rays of light, the shimmers like golden tears. “King Philip’s betrayal destroyed an honorable way of life for the Brotherhood. Devout warriors who had sworn to do naught but protect.”

  “I am so sorry,” she breathed. “When I heard news of the charges, and given King Philip’s craving for power, I refused to believe them.”

  Gray eyes held his for a long moment, the sadness, the grief within touching his soul.

  “But,” she continued, “the French king’s perfidy does not explain why you are in Scotland.”

  He gestured toward a large moss-covered stone. “Sit, please.”

  After a slight hesitation, she complied.

  He settled at her side, angled his body to face hers. Against the gurgle of the stream and the sway of leaves, he explained how, after the Grand Master had received warning of King Philip’s intention to charge the Templars with heresy, Jacques de Molay had set into motion a plan to secretly dissolve the order, an arrangement crafted many years before in the event of such a threat.

  “’Tis understandable that the Grand Master had devised such a scheme, but it does not explain why you are in Scotland.” Gwendolyn’s hand trembled as she withdrew a leaf caught within a snarl of ivy, released it into the soft breeze.

  The aged brown sheath floated in an awkward tumble, landed within the current, and then turned in helpless disarray down the slow-moving stream.

  Lines marred her brow as she met his gaze. “You are not here alone, are you?”

  “Nay. Before the arrests began, beneath the cover of darkness, the Templar fleet fled La Rochelle to preserve the treasures held within the Paris temple. Several ships sailed to Scotland, the remainder to Portugal.”

  “Thank God you and so many others were able to escape. With the Brotherhood warned of King Philip’s intent, why couldna all of the Templars leave?”

  Aiden fought against the despair at those who’d suffered, the overwhelming grief that’d haunted him since that fateful night.

  “I, along with others who were chosen to flee,” he rasped, “were sickened that we couldna forewarn men we had fought alongside over the years.” He swallowed hard. “The Grand Master explained to those loyal to King Philip, the Brotherhood’s daily routine must appear unchanged. Any slip, any hint that we had discovered the sovereign’s plan could cost not only the loss of many more Templar lives but the sacred treasures we swore to protect.”

  “I am so sorry.” She lay her trembling hand upon his. “I canna imagine the hurt you and your men suffered.”

  For a long moment he stared at her fingers, moved by her act of compassion. How long had he held in his grief, never sharing the hurt or daring to release the sorrow he had been convinced once unleased would overwhelm him?

  Yet, for the first time since King Philip’s betrayal, he found himself needing to share, or mayhap he had found someone important enough in his life to whom he could expose his sorrow.

  Foolish thoughts. Theirs was a union based on lies. Though she offered sympathy, ’twas due to her gentle heart. Still, Aiden coveted her kindness, and a part of him wished they could indeed have forever.

  “We still grieve,” he admitted, “a fact that I doubt will ever change.”

  “Understandably.” After a gentle squeeze, she withdrew her hand.

  Aiden yearned to entwine his fingers with hers, to forge a permanent bond. In the end, he remained silent, stowing his dangerous thoughts. Once Latharn Castle was seized, he’d vowed to Gwendolyn he would be gone from her life.

  “There isna a Templar seaport in Scotland, so why were any ships sent here?”

  “King Robert’s religious exclusion and the Scottish clergy’s refusal to acknowledge his excommunication allowed the Bruce to offer all within the Brotherhood entry into his realm with impunity.”

  She tossed another dried leaf into the current, watched as it drifted in an awkward path to follow the last. She turned. “Did the Bruce know your ships were on their way?”

  “Nay. When we arrived at Urquhart Castle, Stephan MacQuistan, the Templar in charge, presented the king a writ from the Grand Master.”

  She gave a slow nod. “With King Robert recently crowned and struggling with the challenges to unite Scotland, ’tis understandable he welcomed an elite fighting force to bolster his ranks.”

  “Under other circumstances I would agree,” Aiden said, the amazement of the news still leaving him humbled, “but Robert Bruce is more than Scotland’s king. He, too, is a Knight Templar.”

  * * * *

  Gwendolyn’s eyes widened as more pieces fell into place. The tie to the Brotherhood explained the king’s inherent trust in Aiden, the reason he’d reinstated his familial holdings, along with his father’s title, and why he’d chosen this fearless knight to reclaim and protect her home.

  Except it did not answer one important question. “Why would King Robert require that we wed?”

  “Upon the dissolution of the Knights Templar, the Grand Master bid those who had escaped to blend into the culture and, in time, marry.”

  “Which makes sense but doesna explain why the Bruce would insist on our union.”

  Face taut, Aiden dug his boot into the mossy bank. “The king has an inclination to pair women of wit and strength with men he respects.”

  She arched a brow. “An inclination?”

  A wry smile touched Aiden’s mouth. “Ours isna the first Templar union King Robert has arranged to some degree.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, more confused.

  “Stephan MacQuistan, my close friend, was the first to fall within the king’s marital mischief. Months later, Thomas MacKelloch, though not ordered to wed, because of the king’s meddling, ended up doing so. ’Twould seem,” he said, his voice dry, “that you and I are the latest in His Grace’s endeavors.”

  The sheer absurdity of such a claim had a smile tugging at her mouth. He was teasing her. Yet the grim acceptance in his eyes underscored his belief.

  “You are telling me that the Bruce,” she said, trying to understand such an absurd notion, “a powerful ruler intent on uniting Scotland, a warrior known for his ferocity in battle, and a highly skilled tactician, has a fondness for arranging marriages?”

  “’Twould seem, as proven by my friends’ fates and ours,” Aiden said, “one of his preferred diversions.”

  “I see.” But she did not. None of this made any sense, but what had since she’d met this valiant knight?

  In fact, most warriors bestowed a castle and a wife would have accepted both without regard to her outrage. But Aiden sought to repair the wrongs dealt her and had offered her Latharn Castle once seized.

  Though he was attracted to her, and regardless whether the Brotherhood had been secretly dissolved, he’d made it clear ’twas a way of life he intended to pursue.

  With Aiden grieving the deaths of many of his comrades, hadn’t he suffered enough?
And yet, before ’twas over, because of the French sovereign’s false charges, many more brave men would die.

  Against the rumble of water, a bird’s distant call echoed through the forest, faded.

  For a moment, she studied the canopy of leaves where sprinkles of fading sunlight fragmented through the dense swath of green to dust the forest floor. ’Twas a setting carefree in its existence, a time to enjoy the warmth tumbling within the breeze before the chill of fall tinged the air.

  But everything had changed.

  Any lingering anger toward Aiden faded. God in heaven, how could she condemn his loyalty to the Bruce or the Brotherhood when he, as she, was caught within circumstances beyond his control?

  Her chest tightened at the heartache he’d endured. Aiden was a good man. Throughout their time together, he’d been fair and had treated her with high regard. Nor could she dismiss her pull to him, one that however upset, and regardless of how much she’d fought to squelch, hadn’t waned.

  Yet his goals in life excluded her, a point proven by his willingness to sacrifice ever having an heir.

  After all he’d suffered and lost, if he wanted to live the Templar way of life, however much she wished otherwise, ’twas a choice she would respect.

  “Now what?” she whispered, saddened that within days he would be gone.

  “Do you agree with my proposal?” Solemn green eyes darkened. “To live apart. Separate lives. Forgoing an heir?”

  Throat tight, worried he’d see the distress in her eyes, she stared into the forest. “Aye.”

  “Once Latharn Castle is seized,” he said, his voice empty of the passion of moments before, “with my need to capture Thorburn Castle, and then support our king in his battles, none will question my departure. Once I am gone, you, as I, will live the life you have chosen.”

  On a hard swallow, she nodded, skimming her fingers across the cool moss, struggling against the sense of emptiness at thoughts of his leaving. A reckless notion. Never had he intended to be part of her life. As a man, he may want and care about her, but with his loyalty to the Brotherhood, ’twas a life he would never allow himself to consider.

  She glanced over. “You miss being a Knight Templar?” Gwendolyn asked despite herself.

  “Very much. Almost a year has passed since the arrests began. Yet I still canna wrap my thoughts around the fact that the Brotherhood is nay more than a shell of its greatness.”

  At the anguish within his words, guilt swept her that she’d hesitated to free him from a bond he did not wish for. “What of your father’s title, granted to you by the king?”

  “In truth, ’tis still as if a dream. Never did I believe an opportunity to reclaim my legacy would exist.” He shrugged. “Regardless, nobility changes little.”

  “I would think your reestablished birthright, along with your family’s stronghold, would change everything.”

  Solemn eyes lifted to hers. “Nay. Once Thorburn Castle is reclaimed, I will leave sufficient guard to ensure its protection, then I will return to fight alongside our king until Scotland is united.”

  The cool resolve to fulfill his duty was firm, but where was the laughter, the tenderness, those moments that had gone beyond duty and created a life?

  Like those she and her father had enjoyed. She smothered her deep yearning for Aiden and faced the truth. The closeness she’d believed they had had was a myth. Only her feelings had deepened during their time together, not his.

  “Your loyalty to the Bruce is admirable, like my father’s,” she said, unhappiness sliding into her voice.

  A frown curved Aiden’s mouth. “Your father kept you ignorant of his fealty to the Bruce to protect you.”

  “He should have trusted me! I am not a simpering lass.”

  “He should have.” Aiden paused. “Gwendolyn, there is one more thing I must tell you.”

  Anger slammed through her. “There is naught more I need to know.”

  He caught her arm as she tried to stand and pulled her back down. She tried to tug free; he held firm.

  “’Tis about your father,” he said, his words solemn. “He didna die in battle.”

  “W-what?” she gasped, trying to wrap her mind around his claim.

  His hold gentled. “He died in Lord Comyn’s castle. King Robert believes your father’s loyalty to him was discovered and he was murdered.”

  Horror filled her, merging with outrage. She gulped a deep breath, then another. “The bastard! I trusted him, gave him my complete loyalty, when all along he deceived me.”

  “He will pay for his treachery,” Aiden hissed.

  Angry tears slid down her cheek, and he drew her against him. “Never will I forgive Comyn.”

  “Nor I.”

  He stroked her hair as she leaned against him. “’Twould seem my father knew Comyn wasna a man to trust. I only wish,” she said, the hurt at her father easing, “that he had told me.”

  “Your father did what he believed best.”

  Gwendolyn drew in a deep sigh. “I know, but ’tis not easy to accept.” She shook her head. “As if life gives us easy choices.”

  Aiden pressed a kiss upon her brow, and her heart ached as she remembered their earlier discussion of his leaving, his departure to give her the life he believed she wanted. Except she did not want him to go, but to remain with her.

  On an unsteady breath, she sat back. “After King Robert has united Scotland, will you return to Thorburn Castle?”

  For a moment his eyes softened with yearning, then grew cool. “’Tis foolish to think of the future. With each battle, I understand a chance exists ’twill be my last.”

  “You canna die,” she gasped.

  Mouth tight, he shrugged. “The day will come.”

  “How can you speak of your death with such indifference?” she demanded.

  “I have witnessed the loss of too many warriors in battle to not have accepted such a fate,” he replied with stoic calm. “Life promises naught but change. ’Tis up to each of us to make the most of each day, not carve out thoughts of a future that may never come.”

  Her emotions raw, Gwendolyn pushed to her feet, furious he could discuss his mortality with such ease when she struggled to think of him no longer in her life. Over the days they’d shared, he had become important to her, more than she’d ever believed possible. Her anger built. Did she matter so little to him that he would sacrifice an heir, walk away, and never see her again?

  “How are you making the most of each day when you think only of war?” she lashed out.

  With slow intent, he stood, his gaze cool. “My duty doesna change the opportunities presented to me,” he said, his voice even, “such as being able to give you the gift of your home and the life you choose.”

  His selflessness left her floundering. Never had she met such an honorable man. “And what of your happiness?”

  “My happiness?”

  The genuine surprise in his eyes, as if he’d never considered such, deepened her sadness. “Aye. Once Scotland is united, and if you have evaded death, what will you do then?”

  He shrugged. “If that time comes, I will return to my ancestral home.”

  “That is all?” she asked, unsure if she was more annoyed at herself for persisting with this discussion, or at him for taking everything in stride, as if he hadna offered to forsake any chance of having an heir. Did he not understand what he was giving up? A home, a family, a…

  Shaken by the feelings he ignited, the dreams he stirred, Gwendolyn glanced at the darkening sky, a hint of stars flickering in the wash of purple and fading streaks of gold. She stepped back. “’Tis late.”

  “’Tis.” For a long moment, she held his gaze, then stowed the desire he evoked deep within.

  This was what she wanted, her life, as his, to go their separate ways. If for a while she had believed more exi
sted between them, she had been wrong, understandably so. Distraught over her father’s death, after meeting a man of such caliber and believing he was her husband, she’d sought his compassion.

  Gwendolyn made to step past him, paused. His scent of man and earth teased her, reminded her of how it’d felt to be in his arms, of how he’d left her trembling beneath his touch. “Aiden…”

  His eyes were shuttered, and he moved out of reach.

  Tears burned her eyes at his withdrawal, more so after he’d held her, offered compassion moments before. Not trusting herself to speak, she strode past, but a part of her yearned for what they’d lost.

  Lost?

  Nay, little about their relationship was that simple. The only thing she knew was that Aiden was indeed an honorable man. Ultimately, he’d chosen to continue his duty as a Templar over being her husband in life and love.

  She wiped away the tears, then hurried through the forest, more than ready to return to Latharn Castle, surrounded by people she loved, those who cared for her. Aye, numerous challenges awaited her in rebuilding her home. The demands would keep her busy, erase thoughts of Aiden. Over time, her feelings for him would fade.

  * * * *

  Illuminated within the torchlit camp, Aiden muttered a curse as he watched Gwendolyn disappear inside her tent.

  Cailin sauntered up to him. “The lass looks sad.”

  “It has been a long day,” Aiden said, more than ready to place the upheaval of the last few hours behind him. “I told her the truth about her father’s death, nor has she calmed since we spoke our vows.”

  His friend gave a slow nod. “Lord Comyn has earned a dangerous enemy in deceiving her. As for your marriage, in time, she will accept the union.”

  “Nay,” Aiden said, struggling to hide the misery letting her go had caused. ’Twas the right choice. Though she had become important to him… Important, nay. She’d become as necessary as his next breath, but he found solace that in the end she’d find peace. “Once Latharn Castle is seized, I will move on.”

  His friend smiled. “I did not mean after this battle, but once Scotland is united.”

  A muscle worked in Aiden’s jaw. “I will not live with her.”