The Knight's Reward (Border Series Book 10)

by Cecelia Mecca

  “I know that when we do make love for the first time, it will be glorious.”

  Somehow, she knew to touch her tongue to his thumb, and when she did, Neill’s eyes hooded ever so slightly. A fluttering raced from her stomach to her very core as she imagined them coming together in that way.

  “I know, Lady Kathryn, that I love you now as surely as I did the day you sat in the solar at Brockburg, defiant and full of ideas. Ready to take on the second most powerful man in Scotland, alone if need be.”

  When he groaned, Kathryn was lost.

  “And I love you, Neill Waryn. If we are to have that wedding night you speak of,” she said as his hand dropped, “perhaps we should be on our way with all haste.”

  “Perhaps you are right.”

  Kathryn murmured “always” and caught his smile just before he turned to leave.

  Chapter 33

  It had been the worst torture Neill had ever experienced.

  On their return journey, he’d been alone with Kathryn on only a few occasions, and the moment he’d attempted to seduce his betrothed, her chaperone, who they had retrieved from the inn, reminded them they were not yet married.

  The only reason he’d acquiesced had been to please Kathryn.

  She had taken him at his word—they were to wait until their wedding night to become husband and wife in truth. He had meant the words when he’d said them, but he dearly wished he could take them back. For even though they’d finally made it through the gates of Kenshire Castle, the banns would still have to be posted, arrangements made . . . Besides which, he would need to take care of the matter of his reward.

  He would take back the foul words if he could.

  Looking at her now as she ran to Sara and the babe in her arms, Neill groaned.

  “For a man who returns victorious, once again, your mood is foul, brother.”

  Geoffrey clasped him on the back and nodded up toward the wall-walk. He caught Kathryn’s eyes and told her silently where he was going. Then he followed his brother up the stone stairs and to the far end of the wall, where the view opened to the sea below. Neill tilted his head back, enjoying the final moments of sunshine for the day.

  “From the pleased look on your face, I can assume London treated you kindly?”

  “London? You mean the king?”

  “Aye, he as well.”

  “Kindly? I suppose so.”

  He smiled, knowing his brother well. Geoffrey waited patiently for him to recall the events at court, because patience was what his brother did best. Neill would do well to learn some forbearance from him, even if they had disagreed about Kathryn.

  Neill reached into the pouch hanging at his side and pulled out the missive. The king’s seal stared back at them as Geoffrey took the rolled parchment from him.

  “What is it?”

  “An order for the lord warden.”

  Geoffrey’s eyes widened.

  “Lord Caxton is to be removed as the warden of the Middle Marches, replaced by the Earl of Morley.”

  His brother continued to stare at the missive.

  “I will be leaving at once to take it to him myself.”

  “I will go with you.”

  Neill had thought his brother might say that.

  “How did it happen?” Geoffrey finally asked.

  Neill explained everything that had happened at court, from his initial audience with the king to Kathryn’s appeal to the queen.

  “I believe you left something out, brother.”

  He had, of course. His brother raised his eyebrows, waiting.

  “I was not going to do it.”

  Geoffrey shook his head. “As stubborn as Bryce. Always have been. You truly planned to disobey your king? Perhaps cause a war?”

  “Unlikely.”

  “And Caxton?”

  “I believe Edward would have replaced him anyway.”

  Geoffrey, rightly so, looked skeptical.

  “After Alexander renewed his vow, it would not have made sense for the king to provoke him again by refusing to remove the one barrier to peace at the border.”

  “Perhaps you are right. But perhaps not.”

  Neill turned away from the view in front of him to the even lovelier one in the castle courtyard.

  Hayden ran around his mother in circles as Sara spoke with Kathryn, who now held the babe in her arms. He didn’t need to explain himself to his brother, but he felt he owed it to him.

  “When I first arrived at Langford, Aylmer was one of the first men I met.”

  He and his brother continued to watch the scene below.

  “We got along from the start, I think because he reminded me of you. And still does.”

  “Handsome,” Geoffrey said. “Skilled—”

  “Nay,” he laughed. “Serious, but humorous. Intelligent. Patient. A quality I admired in him, and in you. Mostly for my lack of it.”

  “You’ve other good qualities.”

  Neill looked at his brother. “I missed you, Bryce, and Emma. Our parents. Our home. You are everything to me, and I’d not jeopardize that.”

  Geoffrey turned serious. “A choice between the woman you love and your family is no choice at all.” His gaze shifted to Sara. “Perhaps I should have counseled you differently. But it seemed you did quite well on your own.”

  “Kathryn did quite well for us both.”

  Which reminded him. “I want to hold the wedding the moment I return. Three days, at most.”

  He didn’t like the look on his brother’s face.

  “Our priest . . . cannot marry you.”

  Had he heard his brother correctly?

  “If he were here, I should say, he could do so in three days’ time. But just yesterday he left for the Holy Island near Clave Castle. A pilgrimage of sorts.”

  “And who, prithee, will serve the good people of Kenshire while he’s away?”

  Geoffrey frowned.

  “No. I will not have that man say the vows that bind Kathryn and I together for life.”

  That man was the village priest. Geoffrey tolerated him and his rather extreme views about the church and its people only because Sara insisted. He’d been here at Kenshire since she was a girl, and so their compromise had been to find a new priest for the castle. One who had apparently taken an untimely leave of absence.

  “I will take her with me.”

  “And marry among strangers?”

  “We will find another priest.”

  Geoffrey cocked his head to the side. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

  Neill cleared his throat.

  A smirk spread across Geoffrey’s face. “Ahhh. Well, little brother, it seems you have no other choice.”

  “We always have a choice.”

  He thought for a moment.

  “Father Simon.”

  “Brockburg’s priest?”

  “He’s practically family to Clan Kerr. We will invite everyone, provided they can be here in less than a fortnight. Emma, I know, can make it here quickly.”

  Geoffrey chuckled. “’Tis a long time to wait. Perhaps you are more patient than you realize.”

  “Perhaps so,” he fairly growled at the thought of the delay. Could Kathryn be persuaded to forget the foolish idea of waiting? What he’d been thinking, Neill was not sure.

  “But since this will be the last Waryn wedding—” Geoffrey slapped him on the back, “—we ought to make it a memorable one.”

  Following his brother back the way they came, he thought again of the long days he would have to wait to see Kathryn, to touch her, to make her his in truth.

  Could he do it?

  Perhaps you are more patient than you realize.

  Aye, he could. And would.

  But Neill certainly did not have to like it.

  “They are so beautiful!”

  Guests had been arriving for days, and Kathryn had to admit she was becoming a slight bit overwhelmed. For so long, her family had comprised of two people: she and her father.
Now she was part of something bigger. Part of the Waryn family and the clan with which they were so deeply intertwined.

  Before the ceremony, all of Clan Kerr would be arriving here, at Kenshire.

  The first guests to arrive were Neill’s sister, Emma, and her husband, the Earl of Clave, who lived not far from them at all. Emma was both unpredictable and a joy to be around. Kathryn had taken to her immediately, and upon Neill’s return from delivering the all-important message, the four of them had become inseparable.

  Gillian and Allie, two sisters who’d grown up with Sara, arrived with their husbands—Graeme deSowlis and Reid Kerr. If she’d thought Emma lovely, these sisters were no less so.

  “Be sure to ask Lady Gillian of how she and Graeme came to be wed,” Emma had told her before their arrival. “’Tis a most interesting tale.”

  Sara had given Emma a sharp look—only to break into giggles moments later. As the women entered the hall with their husbands, Kathryn glanced nervously at Sara. So many people she’d never met before. So much history that she was now a part of. It felt right . . . but it would require an adjustment, to be certain.

  “You’ve grown . . . big since last I saw you,” Emma exclaimed as Allie and her sister walked toward them.

  “’Tis a wonder Reid allowed me to come at all,” Allie said, looking down at her swollen belly. “I remember now,” she chuckled. “He tried to keep us back, but . . .”

  When the group of women laughed, it elicited a look from the men.

  “I do wonder,” Allie said, “if Reid wishes he wed a more malleable bride.”

  “I do not imagine,” said her sister, whose own baby was back at home, “Reid would do well with . . . malleable.”

  From what Kathryn had heard, Reid had earned a reputation as a hard man to tame before he’d met Allie. But the tenacious lady had managed the impossible, and the chief’s second was better for it, according not only to Neill but to Reid himself.

  “Gillian. Allie. I am pleased to introduce you to my future sister-in-law, Lady Kathryn Wyld.”

  Kathryn smiled at the women, who did the same in return.

  “I’m told your father was royal messenger to the king,” Gillian said.

  Allie added, “And that it was you who foiled the lord chancellor’s attempt to waylay an accord between Alexander and Edward.”

  “I would not say that, precisely.”

  “Aye, my lady,” called out a familiar voice from behind her. “I met Kathryn at The Wild Boar, where she bid her time before seizing the opportunity to confront the chancellor herself.”

  Neill told this story to every person who’d not heard it before. Soon he would have her winning the tournament that allowed for the king’s reward too.

  “If not for her, Caxton would not have been forced out of his position.”

  She rolled her eyes as Neill slipped an arm around her.

  Word had spread quickly. Just days after Neill had returned from delivering the king’s message, a new warden of the Middle March had been appointed. Douglas, Lord Warden of Scotland, had convened another council. Thankfully, it had been set after the wedding, a good thing since Clan Kerr would host it again. All expected for the border lords to agree on a return to the monthly Day of Truce meetings now that Caxton had been removed from power.

  Order would be restored, and none too soon.

  “If not for us,” she clarified, ignoring the gleam in Neill’s eyes. It had become increasingly more difficult to adhere to their agreed-upon wedding night. Stolen kisses did little to satiate them, and the one nighttime visit they’d risked had only served to frustrate them.

  “How goes it at Highgate End?” Sara asked.

  “Well,” Gillian said, “though my maid Fiona was unable to make the journey. She hurt her shoulder—” she looked at her sister Allie, “—in an attempt to wield a longbow.”

  Allie winced. “I do feel badly about that. But Fiona was insistent on coming to the training yard with me. And she is not so old, after all.”

  “Is she not?” Gillian crossed her arms.

  “Perhaps she is slightly advanced in age.”

  As the sisters traded barbs, Kathryn caught Emma’s eye. She would gain three sisters by marrying Neill, and though she’d not yet met Catrina, Bryce’s wife, Kathryn had heard plenty about her from the others. From no siblings to . . . this. It felt like a gift.

  “You look well pleased,” Neill whispered in her ear. Grasping her hand as he did often, he pulled her away from the others.

  “I’ve never had a sibling before, and now I will be gaining three sisters, two brothers, and a brother-in-law through our marriage.”

  Neill looked at his sister, who winked in response.

  “They can be trying at times.”

  She followed his gaze. “Surely not Emma? She seems so sweet . . .”

  Neill chuckled, squeezing her hand. “Sweet. Aye. And also troublesome.”

  “Nay. I do not believe it.”

  “Emma told the stable boy at Bristol that he could aspire to be king of England. He fashioned a crown from leaves and twigs and refused to take it off. She bowed to him whenever he walked by.” Neill shook his head. “And he’s likely wearing it still.”

  “That does not seem such a bad thing to do.”

  “The stable boy of a small northern manor will never become the king of England.”

  “Nay?” she argued. “What of Maximinus Thrax, emperor of Rome? He was a sheep farmer, if I recall my studies correctly.”

  “And if I recall mine, he led for just three years before he and his son were murdered by the same army who made him emperor.”

  “But still, he was the emperor of Rome.” She raised her chin.

  “You and Emma will get on well, I believe,” Neill said. “My mother would have adored you.”

  Neill rarely spoke of his parents, and since she did not wish to press him on the matter, she simply smiled. He’d share as much as he liked—and she would be here to listen.

  Kathryn could tell he thought of his mother, of her absence likely, with their wedding just days away.

  “She fought them that day.”

  Kathryn assumed he meant the day she’d been killed.

  Neill looked at Reid then, and Kathryn found herself wondering, again, how they’d found the strength to forgive the clan who’d taken their home. Killed their parents. Though the Kerrs had not done the deed themselves, their raid had taken everything from the Waryn siblings.

  “I hated him, them, for so long.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “But they thought they were doing their duty. Doing as their king bid them. Besides, Bristol Manor had once been a Clan Kerr holding. Bryce—” he looked back at her, “—by marrying Catrina did a service to both our families. We would be feuding still had it not been for his marriage. We never would have realized they’re good people.”

  “So you’ve forgiven them, truly?”

  “Aye,” he said without hesitation. “They’ve served us well through these difficult times, and an ally is always better than an enemy.”

  This time, it was she who squeezed Neill’s hand. “I am so very glad you came to the inn that day,” she said.

  “As am I, Lady Kathryn.”

  He said the title as if it were a private jest between them. And it was. Neill had seen right through her from the start. He’d known she was no common serving maid.

  And she’d known from the start he was no common man. “Shall we rejoin our guests?”

  He made a low sound, almost a growl, in his throat. “I can think of another place I’d rather be.”

  Her stomach flipped at his words. Three days. In just three days she would become his wife, in every possible way.

  Chapter 34

  Neill looked at the sky, thankful for the clear day as he waited on the church stairs with the priest. Father Simon, a man he’d heard much about since Clan Kerr’s fate had interwoven with their own. Having dined with him for the past two nights, Neill coul
d understand why the Kerr siblings valued him so. Soft-spoken yet firm, he’d led Neill and Kathryn through what they could expect of this day, yet Neill was more nervous than he’d ever been before a tournament.

  Geoffrey, Bryce, and Garrick stood closest to him. The bride’s maids would arrive with her, and as they waited, he tugged his new surcoat down, ensuring it was not creased. That he was prepared for his bride.

  Neill was ready both for the ceremony that would tie him and Kathryn together forever and to make her his bride in truth.

  All of Kenshire had crowded below the chapel, spilling into Kenshire’s inner courtyard, so he was glad for the familiar colors of Clan Kerr, their chief standing not far from him. He was glad also for Peter and Faye, who acted as much as parents to his brother and Sara as they allowed, and Uncle Hugh, who’d returned from Camburg Castle near Wales just the day before. Allies like deSowlis were also present.

  And though there were two important people missing from the ceremony—Adam and Cora hadn’t had enough time to make the journey—Neill vowed to take Kathryn to Langford Castle at the earliest opportunity.

  “They’re coming.” Geoffrey stood tall to see over the crowd gathered below them.

  He watched as at least two hundred people moved to the side to create a path for Kathryn and her maids. Minstrels had been secured for the wedding feast that night, but now a single lutist played a lovely, familiar melody.

  And then stopped.

  It wasn’t Kathryn’s maid who walked toward him after all, but two people. A man and a woman.

  And though he could not yet see their faces, Neill knew the couple well.

  Throat scratchy, he swallowed, attempting to regain composure. “How?” he murmured to no one.

  Geoffrey answered him. “Kathryn sent word to them before you left London.”

  Kathryn could not have known they would marry this day. If she’d let Neill have his way, they would already be man and wife.

  “But . . .”

  “She explained the date had not been set but they may want to leave ‘posthaste.’ They arrived last eve after you retired. It was Kathryn’s idea for them to announce themselves now rather than earlier.”