“Aye, and I’m not angry for it.” He didn’t want the man to think Catrina was in trouble.
“I know it. You were worried for her. Did you know I’ve been married three times, my lord?”
Lord help the man. One wife was too many.
“Nay, I did not.” But he did know the chandler had no wife now. “I’m sorry for your losses.”
“Three wives, but only one I loved.”
Bryce watched Alfred’s automatic movements. Did he even realize he was still working as he talked to him?
“I may be a chandler and not a great lord. I can’t read or write or even climb stairs any longer. But I do know some things.”
The old man’s quiet tone and subdued demeanor didn’t lessen the impact of his words. Quite the opposite.
But he wasn’t finished.
“Lady Catrina…the angel that was sent to me today. She’s in love with you, my lord.
And you’re a mighty lucky man for it.”
Catrina. In love with him?
Nay. She hated him. With good reason. He thanked the chandler for his words and quickly exited the building.
His mind still reeling from Alfred’s revelation, Bryce followed Lady Catrina as she wandered through the courtyard, letting her choose their destination. The day grew late, and Kenshire’s people began to prepare for the evening meal. Wagons were unloaded and children ushered home. The air, cooler now that it did not have the sun to recommend it, somehow felt lighter this close to the coast.
He thought of the first time he had seen Lady Sara in her breeches, the only way he could describe such a garment though they were thicker and designed for a woman’s legs. At the time, he’d wondered why she would want to dress like a man. But over the last months, as he and his brother and their uncle had prepared to take back Bristol, he’d came to know, and admire, the woman who so ably ruled an earldom.
Geoffrey told him the garment was more than just a replacement for her typical attire. The explanation had confused him at the time, but as he watched Catrina pace back and forth, her hands twisting and turning the long braid at her side, Bryce thought he might finally understand what his brother had tried to explain to him. Catrina was similar to Sara in many ways. He shouldn’t be surprised the women got along so splendidly.
Could Alfred be right?
“Lord Waryn!” A boy no older than ten and two came running toward them. “Master Peter told me I could find you here. Come quickly.”
“Who sent you?”
“Sir Geoffrey, my lord. He needs to see you immediately. They’re coming.”
Bryce looked from the boy to Catrina, whose eyes widened. Her face drained of color.
Without waiting for a response, the boy ran away, likely to tell his brother he’d been found. That the scouts had returned so soon could only mean one thing. The Scots were closer than they’d assumed. They moved fast for such a large party.
“My lady.” He nodded to Catrina and walked away. There was nothing to say. The apology he’d intended for his treatment in the stables would no longer be welcome. Certainly not when she learned what he had planned for the days ahead.
“Bryce, wait. I must speak to you.”
He would not turn back.
“Bryce?”
Her pleading tone was like a knife in his gut. An enemy’s knife, twisting and turning. Except the blessed numbness that came with such a wound was absent. With every step he took, the wound continued to tear at him until it reached down to his soul. He wanted to turn back. To heal the pain in her voice.
But he wanted one thing more. He walked into the hall and was guided to the solar, where Geoffrey sat with the captain of his guard and Kenshire’s constable. He could tell from their expressions the thing he desired most would come to pass soon.
“Clan Kerr is no more than two days from here,” said Gerard de Winters, the constable.
He turned to his brother.
“Geoffrey, do not say it.” When his brother opened his mouth to speak, Bryce cut him off. “I’ve spent my life as your little brother. I’ve admired you, tried to be you, for as long as I can remember. We took Bristol back together, and I still looked to you for advice. Every man in this room knows without Kenshire’s support, Bristol Manor and its village would still be in the hands of the clan that marches here to destroy us.”
He turned to Gerard. “I thank you for your support. Then and now.”
Sitting across from his brother, he finished what he came here to say. “You gave Bristol to me. And as its lord and commander, I will do what is necessary to protect it. Clan Kerr will never again take what is ours. I leave at dawn.”
“Bryce, you can’t—”
He raised his voice. “Hugh has just sent word that Kerr is in agreement. I can, and I will. Send your men, if you’d like. Though I did not come here to put Kenshire at risk.”
“Kenshire is not at risk, my lord,” Gerard said.
Bryce ignored him.
“Send for the sheriff.”
No one talked. Or even moved. He didn’t intend to be swayed on this, although he knew Geoffrey would try. He would settle this matter once and for all. Either Toren Kerr would be killed and Bristol freed from his clan’s threat, or Bristol and the feudal barony that accompanied it would be lost. Either way, the people would remain safe. They would not live in fear of another raid every day.
“You gave me your word, brother, and I’ll have it again.”
“Bryce, I never imagined you’d go through with this—”
“Your word.”
Geoffrey’s jaw locked the way it did when he was extremely unhappy, but there was nothing he could do. He would not go back on a promise, and they both knew it.
“The sheriff will be here at dawn to accompany you. As will I. Nay, do not argue with me. If you’re intent on this trial, I’ll be there to deal with the outcome. Either way.”
There would be only one outcome.
For the first time in Bryce’s life, he felt like a coward. But the thought of telling Catrina…
He couldn’t do it. She’d find out soon enough. In the meantime, he meant to avoid her. The next time they met, if there was a next time, her brother would be dead, and she would hate him. With good reason.
So be it.
20
The last few hours had been a whirlwind. After Bryce was called into a council meeting, Catrina attended an extremely subdued meal. The head table, at least, was subdued. The other fifty or so people who dined on manchet and spiced rabbit spent the evening blissfully unaware that anything was wrong.
Lady Sara claimed not to know what was happening, and Catrina believed her. All of them furious at being left out of the discussion, Sara, Catrina, and Emma huddled together, speculating about the meeting. Sara only knew as much as Catrina, that her clan and their allies were marching toward Kenshire. Peter refused to talk, insisting it was Geoffrey’s place, not his, to do so. According to Sara, they had argued—a rare occurrence. They normally made decisions together, but when she’d demanded to be brought into the discussions, Geoffrey had insisted it was Bristol’s business and Bryce’s story to tell.
“What do you think he has planned?” Sara asked Catrina.
“Damned if I know.” Catrina clasped a hand over her mouth. She’d done so well lately, but the epithet simply slipped.
The other women broke into giggles, eliciting stares from those seated closest to them.
“You have to remember, I’m naught but his captive.”
Sara waved a dismissive hand. “Poppycock, you’re no such thing. You are my future sister-in-law, ours both,” she motioned to Emma. Apparently the younger girl had been apprised of Sara’s plans.
Emma smiled and laid a hand on Catrina’s. “My mule-headed brother will need some convincing before he admits to falling in love with a Kerr—”
“He’s not in love with me.”
Both Sara and Emma stared at her and then began to laugh. What was so amusing?
> “He isn’t!” She couldn’t tell them about their encounter in the stables. It was mortifying enough to think about.
“I’ve seen my brother with plenty of women. Pardon me, Lady Catrina, for saying such a thing. But they don’t call him the Slayer without reason.”
She stared at the younger girl, a female version of her brothers. “You mustn’t say such things, Emma. You must be—”
“Ten and nine, my lady.”
“Ten and…how can that be?”
“I’ve always looked younger than my age.” Emma smiled, but she sensed a sadness behind it and wondered at the cause.
“As I was saying,” Emma continued, “I know my brother well and agree with Sara. He’s never acted this way around a woman. Since…”
Emma hesitated.
“Lady Elena?” Catrina ventured.
Emma cocked her head to the side. “You know about her?”
Sara looked at them both. “Who is Lady Elena?”
Neither woman answered. Catrina was surprised Emma knew of the woman who had scorned her brother. It was a topic he clearly avoided.
Emma answered, “A woman from Bryce’s past. But it’s his story to tell. Not that he will, mind you. I only got it by kicking him so hard he limped for two days, and he still hasn’t told our brothers.”
Sara laughed, apparently accustomed to such behavior. But Catrina was stunned. “Kicked him?” She’d been plenty angry with all three of her brothers, but couldn’t remember ever actually hitting one of them. Well, at least not since she was a child.
“A long story,” Emma said.
“Somehow I’m not surprised. That you kicked him, or that Bryce relented.” Sara took a sip of wine. “A tale for another day. In the meantime, what are we to do about Bryce?”
The three women sat in silence. Catrina had no idea what Bryce was planning, but if her clan was making its way toward Kenshire and Bryce and Geoffrey were preparing to leave, it could only mean one thing. Trouble.
“I have to go with them.”
Emma looked appalled. Sara, startled.
“Let me talk to him this evening,” Sara said. “The men aren’t leaving until dawn. I’ll try again to—”
“Nay.”
Both women looked at her as if she were mad.
“If Geoffrey is anything like his brother, he’ll not yield. I must find a way to accompany Bryce.”
Emma shook her head. “Bryce will never let you go with him. It’s too dangerous—”
“Emma’s right,” said Sara. “Think about it. Bryce and my husband believe your clan to be the enemy. Are they planning to negotiate your release—” she took a deep breath, “—are they going to battle? Either way, it’s much too dangerous for you.”
Catrina would not be swayed. “They are my people. My family. They would never harm me. If anyone has the right to be there, it’s me. And I’m the only one who can avoid bloodshed.”
She held her breath, waiting. Her heart hammering, Catrina silently prayed for Lady Sara’s help. Without it, she feared the worst. Everything she dreaded was coming to pass. For there was no doubt, without her intervention, someone would get hurt. Possibly many people.
Sara looked from Emma to Catrina. She lifted her chin and nodded. “Very well. But you must go with the men—”
“They will never allow it.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed. “They will if they don’t know you’re there.”
What was Sara planning? Even if she could travel with them undetected, they would turn around immediately if she were discovered.
“Come.” Sara abandoned her meal and took Catrina’s hand. “We’ve much to do before dawn.”
Catrina and Emma both followed Sara out of the great hall. The countess of Kenshire was a woman to be reckoned with. And she thought Bryce was in love with her. So did his sister. Was it possible?
She would find out soon enough. In a few days’ time, her fate would be decided. Nay, she would decide it. And she chose both Bryce and her family.
The fates be damned.
The next morning, before dawn, Catrina pulled on the long modified breeches and slipped out of her chamber into the hall below. Even though Sara had assured her that she was an early riser and would not allow her to miss the men’s departure, Catrina had hardly slept.
Avoiding the hall, Catrina lifted the hood on her cloak as she navigated the corridors Sara had showed her the night before. She didn’t dare carry a candle, so it took a considerable amount of time to find her way through the dark hallways to the door Sara had insisted she use.
Once outside, Catrina allowed her eyes to adjust to the moonlight. She could see just enough to make her way to the stable. It was so quiet. Eerily quiet.
“Catrina?” Although it was whispered, Sara’s greeting made her jump.
Just as they’d planned, Sara led Davie and her own palfrey, Guinevere, around to the back of the stable.
“Did you have any trouble?” Catrina asked.
They walked toward the gatehouse, encountering only a handful of chickens and a few barrels of hay as they made their way through the courtyard.
“Eddard didn’t much like my plan, but the marshal has known me since I was a babe. He gave his word not to tell Geoffrey. I’ve instructed him to tell the men we left just before they did for a morning ride.”
Catrina let out the breath she held. Now for the most dangerous part of their plan…waiting until daybreak without being discovered. Eventually Sara would get Catrina past the guards under the guise of going for a morning ride. Catrina would slip away and wait, hidden, until the men rode past. She and Sara would follow, joining their group. If she were discovered too soon, they would send her back immediately. And since she had little chance of following for very long without being discovered, Catrina knew her first task would be to convince Bryce to allow her to accompany him north.
So they waited for a respectable time to “go for a morning ride.” So far, they were in luck. They’d risen so early in the morn, no one, with the exception of Eddard, had seen them.
Yet.
If either Guinevere or Davie made too much noise, they risked discovery. But there was no hope for it. Though Sara was confident she could trust Eddard, she wasn’t as confident about the stable hands or guards who may see them.
“What is this building?” Catrina asked.
The women sat behind a small stone structure at the far north of the courtyard adjacent to the inner curtain wall. Their horses were tied and, for the moment at least, quiet.
“A storeroom. It was once the dovecote, but they moved there—” she pointed to another structure not far from them, “—a few years ago.”
“I’ve never seen a castle this large.” Catrina was still in awe at the sheer magnitude of the place.
“What is Brockburg like?”
Though certainly not as grand as Kenshire, it was every bit as clean and comfortable, thanks to her efforts. “Tis lovely, though the entirety of the castle would fit inside Kenshire’s main keep.”
“Is it much different in Scotland, then?”
Though she asked the question casually, Catrina could tell it was an important one. Sara had already admitted she’d never crossed the border.
Wherever that was.
“Nay, it’s not. The Highlands, however…” She’d been north of Brockburg a few times, and the people and customs were as foreign to her, maybe more so than those of the English. “When I came to Bristol, that’s what surprised me most. How similar our people were. Being English and all.” She stopped, not wishing to insult Lady Sara.
They talked for what seemed like hours. About England. And Scotland. About the dangers at the border and, eventually, about the men they loved. Catrina finally heard the full, unfettered story of Sara and Geoffrey’s courtship, which made her relationship with Bryce seem positively uncomplicated.
“So you were formally betrothed when you met Geoffrey?”
“Aye. A betrothal sanctioned by the king
. Luckily the earl was just as content to take Caiser’s southern holdings as he was to take a bride. But there was a time—” She stopped and reached for Catrina’s hand. “There was a time I thought we would never be together.”
A feeling Catrina knew well. The obstacles between her and Bryce seemed insurmountable. But she didn’t care. She loved him and was determined to help him understand what everyone else around them already seemed to have realized.
They were meant to be together.
“I don’t know what will be more difficult, getting Bryce to listen to reason or convincing my brother not to kill him on the spot.”
Sara released her hand, looking around the corner of the building. Catrina had also heard the noise, and her heart was thumping in her chest. When a pig came flying past them a moment later, she nearly laughed aloud. Sara held her hand to her mouth, and Catrina did the same. It took them both a moment to compose themselves.
Soon after, before the sun made an appearance, Kenshire slowly sprang to life. The women were well hidden behind the storeroom. Though she couldn’t see much from their position, Catrina could hear a woman calling to her child and the wheels of a wagon creaking past them. When the sky finally lightened enough not to raise suspicions, they left their hiding place and walked around the building, leading their horses away from the keep.
As promised, Sara had no trouble at either gate. “Good morrow, Eddard.”
“‘Tis early for a ride, my lady,” one young knight ventured.
“Indeed. This business with Clan Kerr has made Emma and I restless. Good day to you.”
Catrina tucked her chin close to her neck, making the most of the concealment offered by the hood. It was imperative for the guards to believe the illusion.
Without giving him a chance to answer, they rode through the massive gates and made their way around the outer wall.
“Just up here,” Sara called. Without trees to conceal them, they hid behind a corner of the wall. Sara dismounted and inspected Guinevere’s hoof. “The closest watchtower is there.” Sara pointed above them as if to explain her impromptu care of her palfrey.
The Lord's Captive (Border Series Book 2) Page 19